Quest for the Past
by Rogue Angel 715
Summary: Sequel to Girl of the Rogue, but you can start here and understand the whole thing. Kiloa tells Nyah something shocking about her past and now she's going back to Scanra where she meets and unlikly ally. Please read, review, and recommend!
1. Midwinter Romance

_A.N. Hey guys! Okay, here's the sequel to Girl of the Rogue. I'm a little nervous because I'm not sure if the sequel is ever as good as the prequel so bear with me! I promise, there are new characters in the making as well as a really good plot. (You'll understand when you reach the end of this chapter.) Also, if you really, really want something in this story, like a bit of romance, (got it), some action, (got it), a character with a really different personality (got it), let me know and I'll see what I can do. Anyway, without further adieu, (How do you spell that?) here's Quest for the Past. _

Chapter 1

"Thanks." The emerald-eyed young woman grabbed the parcel and left the merchant's stall, pulling the hood of her cloak around her head more firmly. It was just before the Midwinter celebrations and Nyah was picking up some last minute gifts for her "family". There was a rule in the Rogue that you couldn't steal the gifts you gave during Midwinter, you had to buy them. So, for the past week Nyah had been slipping out of the Dancing Dove and buying and bartering for their presents. 

                She shivered as she walked down Market Way, pulling her cloak tighter around her skirts. "It is so cold!" she chattered through her teeth. "You'd think I wouldn't have a problem with it, being from-" she paused only for a moment, "-the north." 

                She walked until she reached the Lower City and the local inn, the Dancing Dove. It had been her home for the past two years, ever since she had been "brought" to the tavern. _Unconscious and nearly bleeding to death,_ she thought with a small grin. It hadn't been funny at the time but now that she looked back on it, a fifteen-year-old girl trying to rob the Palace, she realized she had been a fool to think she could actually get away with it. 

She smiled and walked up to the side door near the stables, thanking the gods that someone had shoveled the walkway while she was gone. The piles of pure white snow were stacked five feet height on both sides of the door way. Trudging through that mess in her pretty green dress was not something she was looking forward to. 

As she was thinking, suddenly, something cold and wet hit her square in the face. She yelped wiped the perfectly aimed snowball off. Her hood fell back, revealing a wave of auburn hair. She knew only one person who had that kind of aim.

"Eric Tanner!" she yelled. Her friend Eric leaned against the wall of the stable, another snowball in his gloved hand. "You're going to regret that!" she threatened, though her eyes gleamed with fun. 

                Eric grinned mischievously and tossed the snowball from hand to hand. "Oh I am?" he asked. He eyed the sack that had his Midwinter gift in it and smirked. "What'd you get?" he asked.

                Nyah grinned impishly and hid the bag behind her back. "I'm not telling you!" 

                Eric made to grab for the sack and she pulled it out of his reach. He feigned left, the lunged right, grabbing. But Nyah had not been a thief her whole life for nothing. She had been in more narrow escapes than one and that was one of the oldest tricks in the book. 

Nyah jumped out of the way at the last second and Eric, surprised by her move, dove headfirst into the large snow bank behind her. Nyah took one look at her poor friend, his head stuck in the snow, and burst out laughing. Eric jumped up and glared at her. "You think that's funny, huh? Come here you!" 

                He jumped and grabbed her around the waist, tackling her. The two of them fell in the snowdrift, wrestling with each other. Nyah's sack lay forgotten by the door as they laughed and threw snow at one another. Finally, Nyah yelled, "Okay I give up!" 

Eric smiled with satisfaction. Then suddenly he seemed to realize what it looked like he was doing and immediately rolled over on his back next to her, blushing. His embarrassment didn't last long though when Nyah's clear laugh rang out. Soon, the two of them lay panting and laughing in the snow. Nyah looked at him with a grin. "But I'm still not telling you!" she added rebelliously. 

                "Fine," he told her. "I'll wait. I've got plenty of time."

He held out his hand and a laughing Nyah took it. He pulled her up from the pile of snow and the friends went inside together. 

Nyah went up to her room with her sack and hid the gifts under the bed, her cheeks red from being outside in the snow, but also from being with Eric. She threw her cloak on the bed and sat down, sending her emerald green Gift to the fireplace and all the candles in her room. She felt giddy and she couldn't stop smiling.

 She scolded herself for acting like such a child. She had been in relationships with men before! Why was Eric so different? "Because he has the bluest eyes I've ever seen," she said aloud with a dreamy smile on her face. "Because he is so tall and handsome and- oh gods what am I doing?" she cried out in exasperation. "Stop thinking about him! He's a friend!"

Soon, she was warm and comfortable and she placed a kettle over the fire to warm. The fireplace, which was on the left side of the room, had a large plush couch in front of it and a low coffee table. She dropped on the couch and sighed contentedly. 

                It had been two years since she had been sealed into the Rogue and about one year since George, the King of the Court of the Rogue and her "brother", had declared her the Princess of the Rogue. She looked down at her arm and saw the "R" that had been burned into her above the crook of her elbow. What made hers different was that hers was crowned with a circle of roses and thorns, a symbol that she was royalty of the Rogue. 

                The heated kettle whistled merrily and Nyah poured the heated water into a cup with a tea bag and stirred. Her thoughts changed to all the events that had happened up till now. Ever since she was fifteen, a young goddess had visited her in her dreams called Kiloa who looked out for her and who, Nyah suspected, was a child of the Great Mother Goddess. Kiloa had told her to confront her past but the past was hard. Fear swept over her and she had tried to rob the Palace, thinking she could get enough to get passage to the Yamani Isles and start over. "That didn't exactly work," she mumbled thinking of when the men of the Rogue had shot her with an arrow. "Come to think of it," she muttered, "It was Eric who nearly killed me. And now I lo-" she stopped herself short. 

She remembered when, shortly after she had been branded into the Rogue, George had been captured by soldiers because of her and she had tried to rescue him. He escaped but she was caught, drained of her magical Gift, and very nearly executed before he saved her in return. _Very nearly,_ she thought, rubbing her neck. The feeling the noose had given her, as it tightened unbearably was one that would stay with her the rest of her life.

                After that, she and George fled to his estate in Port Caynn. No one in Tortall knew where they had gone except for the Rogue. They had stayed there for six months until the search for the two of them had died down. After that, Rispah had helped Nyah disguise herself by dyeing her blond hair brown and taking out all of the little braids that covered her head. Kiloa had done these and told Nyah that in Galla, two hundred years ago, the style meant "Princess of Thieves". Ever since then, Nyah had worn one thin braid in her long brown hair that now had grown down her back. 

                Also, her Gift that had allowed her to silence herself and pick locks when she stole things had been drained when she was captured. One day, miraculously, it had been restored and Nyah strongly suspected Kiloa's work but knew by now that she shouldn't question the gods. She never got any answers, only more questions and besides, it just gave her a headache anyway. 

                Nyah finished drinking her tea and set the cup down, smiling. All in all, she had done all right for herself. Getting up, she changed out of her dress and pulled on her tight black pants, loose black blouse, and mid calf high boots. Slipping her belt around her waist, she slid three daggers in their sheaths and two more in the hidden ones in her boots. Her pouch of Yamani throwing stars also tied onto the belt. She pulled her hair into a tight braided bun, leaving the thin braid hanging down by her left ear. Outfit complete, she went down to the common room for an early supper with George and the rest of her group. She had work to do tonight. 

                The next day, Nyah woke and jumped out of bed, throwing on her housedress. It was the day of the longest night of the year during Midwinter, and the day when gifts were exchanged. She grabbed her wrapped gifts from under her bed and ran downstairs to the common room. 

                "Hurry up!" the tall and muscular Leon said as she approached the table by the fire. "You're the last one down." Sure enough, George, Rispah, Eric, Orem, Shem, Ercole, and everyone else was gathered around the large table in the back of the Dancing Dove near the fireplace. 

                Everyone exchanged gifts and Nyah watched with pride as Rispah gasped when she pulled a garnet and gold pectoral from the box. Nyah beamed with pride. That had cost her three nights' work and she very nearly got caught in one of the shops trying to find the moneybox.

Rispah put the brooch on immediately and gave Nyah a large hug. George was next, and Nyah had bought him a new set of five daggers, each protected with magic and made with the finest Yamani steel money could buy. George tested the blade on his finger and smiled when it drew a drop of blood without him even putting pressure on it. "A finer set of knives, I don't think I've ever owned, baby girl," George commented as he placed them back in their brown sheaths. Nyah blushed at George's nickname for her. 

                The rest of her friends received small trinkets, none as expensive as George's or Rispah's, but no one cared. It was as though the two cousins had unofficially adopted the teenager anyhow.

                Nyah opened her gifts along with everyone else and found several things. She received small things from the men and women of the Rouge, things like a whittled flute that Leon had given her and a new shawl that Red Nell had made. The gift that George gave her came from Rispah also. It was packaged in a tiny navy box, no bigger than the palm of her hand. She gently opened it. 

                She nearly fainted when she saw the present. Inside was a solid gold chain and locket with numerous tiny diamonds in the shape of an "R" on the front. The locket was oval shaped and was only about as big as twice her thumbnail. "Rispah! George! I can't accept this!" she said breathlessly.

                "You have to," George said teasingly. "It's Midwinter after all."

                "Look on the back," Rispah told her gently.

                Nyah turned the sparkling locket over and on the other side was in inscription in tiny letters. Nyah leaned over to read it. _So you always know where you belong._ Nyah felt the locket with caressing fingertips, and she smiled. She had forgotten to say thank you but she didn't need to. The words were already there on her face. "Thank you," she whispered. She didn't cry; she never cried. But she felt tears standing in her eyes.

                After the exchange was over, Nyah realized that the only person she hadn't gotten a gift from was Eric. She was slightly hurt, especially with them being such close friends. _You don't need another gift,_ she scolded herself as she fingered the priceless locket around her neck. _After this, you should be content with never getting another gift in your life!_

                However, afterwards, everyone went over to Solom to get breakfast and Eric walked up to Nyah, who was laughing with Red Nell.

"Could I speak with you for a moment?" he asked, unusually polite.

"Sure," Nyah replied, stepping out of line. Nell coughed loudly and gave a wry wink. Eric blushed. Nyah glared at the older woman. Every Lady of the Rogue always made such a fuss after she did anything involving Eric. They were just friends, nothing more. Right?

Eric led her to another part of the room where they were out of site from the breakfast line. "Here." He handed her a box, a little smaller than the one the locket came in. "These are for you. I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of their Majesties. There was no way I could compete with that."

"Eric!" Nyah gave him a playful shove. "You know I don't care what you get me. Just so long as you get me something!" she told him jokingly.

"Well, open it," he told her. "Go on!" 

Nyah carefully untied the red ribbon and opened the box. Inside was a set of gold and pearl earbobs. "Eric!" she gasped. "They're beautiful! Thank you so much!" She looked up into her friend's face and stopped talking. She seemed to notice for the first time, just how blue his eyes were. His hair was a coal black and seemed to shine in the dim light. They were close, barely inches between them. 

Suddenly, Eric leaned close and kissed her warmly. Nyah was so shocked, she almost pulled away. The kiss lasted for several minutes. _He's good,_ a voice in the back of her head whispered. _Very good._  Finally, he pulled away, although all too soon for her.

"Midwinter luck, Nyah," he whispered as he stroked her cheek with his fingertips. Then he walked away, back to the breakfast line, leaving Nyah alone with the beautiful gift and the kiss fresh on her lips.

Late Midwinter night, Nyah lay in her bed with the blankets pulled tight around her, a fire blazing in the hearth. Her window was cracked just a tiny bit. Normally, she couldn't sleep with a bit of fresh air, no matter how cold it was outside. However, tonight she still couldn't sleep even though the cool air came in through the window. She knew why. Eric's kiss still lingered on her lips. 

Sighing, she lay with her hands behind her back, staring at the ceiling. _Maybe,_ she thought, _if I just close my eyes, I'll drift off to sleep. _

                She shut her eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling the sharp Midwinter aromas of evergreens and snow coming from the outside. After a moment, the smells changed. She smelled the scent of coming rain and of mountain air, so different from the city's smell. In her mind, she saw shooting stars that fell so numerously in one area that they made a solid backdrop, like a waterfall. A young woman took shape in front of the almost blinding curtain of stars and Nyah smiled inwardly. She knew who this was. 

                Kiloa, the Young Goddess, stood before her, clad in Midwinter colors; a beautiful red dress with a golden sash. Her long black hair hung in curly ringlets and on her head was a crown of stars, only these were golden instead of sliver like the ones behind her. 

"Nyah." Kiloa nodded her head and smiled. Her face was almost too beautiful to look. Her skin was a milky white and her cheeks were flushed with red. Her lips were a deep red that matched her dress. Her nose was sculpted with careful precision and heavy lashed eyes were always flashing different colors. 

"It's been too long." Her eyes flashed purple. "You have grown from a gangly young girl to a beautiful young woman. Now, Nyah, I feel the time is right."

                _Right for what?_ Nyah thought apprehensively in her sleep. _What will she tell me _this_ time?_

                The eyes went silver. "Nyah I can tell you no more than this, for it is all I know. Your father is alive still living in Scanra. Once I told you to search for you past. Now I tell you again, my sister. Find your past in Scanra!"

                Nyah woke with a jerk. Sunlight flooded her room and the fire had burnt to ashes. She heard a winter bird chirping and the talk of men down in the common room as they ate their breakfasts. 

                She placed a hand to her forehead. "Alive?" she whispered. "My father's… alive?" 


	2. Welcome to Kahanlanda

Chapter 2  
  
It was a five-day ride along the Great Road North, into the Grimhold Mountains. Nyah left almost immediately after receiving the vision from Kiloa, although she had to battle with George to let her go. His argument was that there was no way her father could've survived a shot in the back the way her father had. Nyah was livid; how dare he question Kiloa! The Young Goddess had saved her life numerous times and had never ever lied to her before. Eventually, George realized that Nyah was going to go, whether or not he said she could.  
  
He finally agreed, but on the day they were to leave, Nyah noticed someone else mounting up. A tall someone with gorgeous blue eyes and chestnut brown hair that gleamed in the light. Eric smiled at Nyah, and she could almost feel the warmth of his kiss from the other night. She blushed. She turned and glared at George, who grinned devilishly. "That is so cruel," Nyah muttered as she fingered the gold and pearl earbobs Eric gave her.  
  
After the three of them set off, Nyah barely said a word to either of the men. She did her share of the hunting and cooking when they stopped to camp, but some quiet young nineteen-year-old woman in brown breeches and a white blouse replaced the usual talkative, sassy Nyah.  
  
George was concerned about her, but had the common sense not to say anything. It was obvious why she was so skittish around Eric, (Word spread quickly in the Rogue.) but he couldn't understand why she was nervous about anything else. Of course, she was going back to a place where people hated her and wanted her dead to meet a man who she had thought was dead for thirteen years. Then again, maybe he could understand a little.  
  
On the sixth day of riding, however, Nyah's attitude changed. They had reached the long stone wall in the mountains that was the border marker between Scanra and Tortall. She seemed more alert and clearheaded, today and she was talking more. She seemed a little happier when George suggested that she put her longbow over her shoulder, as a safety precaution.  
  
However, that night when they stopped for camp, Nyah insisted that two stay up and keep guard and the other sleep, instead of the usual one lookout. She kept the fire burning all night and twisted sharply when a branch cracked or a nocturnal animal called out. Needless to say, George fell into a restless sleep and woke many times, half expecting a raider above him with a long knife. It was a long night.  
  
When daybreak came, it looked as thought it hadn't. The sky was overcast, given the whole day a dreary, dull effect to it. Nyah's breakfast didn't help warm the men up either. "So much for the fancy breakfast I was hoping for," Eric muttered jokingly to George as Nyah quickly gave them each a ladle full of lukewarm, lumpy porridge. "You know, the kind that's hot."  
  
"And edible," George agreed.  
  
"Shut up up, you two," Nyah snarled.  
  
They looked at her with a bit of shock in their eyes. She ignored them and quickly packed everything.  
  
When they were dressed and ready to go, Nyah pointed to a pass in-between two mountains, about a mile long and halfway up hill. "Quicksilver pass," she announced. "The last leg. On the other side is the city of Kahanlanda. I'm cautioning you both now," she said with a commanding tone of voice. "Kahanlanda in completely immoral. It's practically teaming with gangs and criminals, that believe in stealing and killing- as a sport. Keep an eye to your bags, your hoods of your cloaks pulled up and don't say anything to anyone."  
  
The move through the pass was quick and Nyah was ready to act with every step. She kept her longbow on her back with her quiver and George noticed that she had brought her armor piercing arrows. All her daggers were loose and George took his cue from her and did the same.  
  
When they reached the peak of the hill, George was looking down on what must've been hell on earth. Kahanlanda was a city of tall gray and stone buildings with paved roads that were covered in mud and trash. George saw darker blobs milling about the he assumed were people. The sun looked as though it had never shone on Kahanlanda and it was bare all around the outskirts except for what looked to be a very muddy pond.  
  
"Welcome to Kahanlanda," Nyah whispered.  
  
As the trio went down the hill, Nyah hid Thunder and the men's other horses in the forest. Then, she adjusted the hood of her cloak more firmly around her head and walked down onto the main road. The men kept close behind her as she counted the alleyways. "Tenth on the right and six windows down," she muttered.  
  
"Nyah, what exactly are we looking for?" Eric whispered in her ear.  
  
Her heart began to quicken and she felt herself grow hot like she always when he spoke to her now. Amazing, she thought disgustedly, I get nervous around him when I'm in the middle of hell. "A safe place," she said briskly. I hope it's still there, she added nervously to herself.  
  
"Hey watch it!" Someone yelled at George as the stranger crashed into him. He began to walk away when George grabbed the man's arm and yanked him back.  
  
"Nice try," he growled. "Hand it over." He drew his dagger and held it up close to the man's eye. "Now."  
  
The man looked at George in terror and slowly handed him the moneybag he had snagged from George's belt. George let him go and snarled. The man scampered off into the crowd and George grinned as he tied his purse back on his belt. Then he tossed the thief's purse over to Nyah. "Payback," he grinned. Nyah smiled and tied the stolen savings to her belt.  
  
"Nine, ten! Here we go," Nyah said. "Follow me." They went down a vacant alley and Nyah began to count windows- most of which were dirt coated and broken. Suddenly, someone grabbed her from behind. Nyah automatically began to struggle but froze when her captor pressed a knife to her throat. If she tried to fight back, the knife would slit her throat.  
  
"Give me the goods, or the dame gets it," said a voice. 


	3. Safe House

Chapter 3  
  
"Now!" the person yelled at George. He couldn't see the face, it was heavily hooded and the cloak covered his entire body. Whoever it was had a strange voice, young sounding. The grip he had on Nyah, however, was strong and firm. The knife pressed against her neck and he watched the blade nick her skin. He obviously wasn't kidding.  
  
"George," Nyah whispered, afraid to yell for fear her throat would get sliced if she did. "Eric, help me."  
  
Suddenly, George moved faster than lightning to the person's back and drew his dagger, pressing against his back. "You think you're faster than me?" he challenged. "You think I won't drive this through your spine before you slit her throat? You willin' to take that chance?"  
  
Whoever it was seemed to be considering this for a moment when, suddenly, just as fast as George had been, the person released Nyah and jumped straight up, high into the air over George's head, a good seven feet.  
  
"What the hell?" Eric yelled, daggers drawn. Nyah quickly recovered, not noticing that a bit of blood trickled down her neck, touching the fine gold chain of her locket. She drew her own daggers, as well as unlatching her belt pouch full of Yamani throwing stars. The three members of the Rogue stood ready as this acrobatic killer turned and faced them.  
  
Slowly, the hood of the cloak fell. Nyah gasped. George and Eric swore. In front of them stood a girl no more than thirteen with an evil smirk on her face. Her eyes were the strangest things Nyah had ever seen, and she had seen a lot of strange things before. They're. gold, she thought in amazement. They were indeed golden, and not just flecks of gold like in most people she had seen, but a solid, gleaming gold. They seemed to pick up the sparse bits of light that wove their way down through the clouds and reflect it back three times stronger. Eric and George also stared at her with open mouths.  
  
"Bye now," she said, flashing a white toothed grin. With no inclination at all, she flicked a hidden knife at George with expert aim. Completely caught unaware, the blade hit him in the thigh and he dropped, swearing in pain.  
  
The exclamations snapped Nyah away from the girl's entrancing eyes. "You bitch!" she yelled, not to be outdone by George. She watched as the King of Thieves pulled out the blade, biting his lip so hard it began to bleed as well. The young girl smiled and winked. With that, she turned and began to sprint, cloak flapping out behind her.  
  
Nyah didn't stop to think. She knew Eric would stay with George so she bolted past the two of them. The girl burst out of the alley and back out onto the open road. The crowd was thin and Nyah chased the girl down the street. Suddenly, she bolted down an alley and Nyah made a sharp left to avoid colliding with a merchant cart selling overpriced rotten vegetables.  
  
"Watch it brat!" the owner of the cart yelled at Nyah. She ignored him and ran down the empty alley. "What the-" Nyah asked wonderingly. The girl had vanished into thin air. She stood silent for a moment, listening for the slightest noise.  
  
All of a sudden, she dropped and rolled. A dagger flew down from above, barely inches away from her head. She jumped again and looked up. The girl stood at the top of a two-story building. When she saw that she had been spotted, she turned and ran.  
  
"Oh no you don't," Nyah snarled. She spied a rusty, wobbly old ladder attached to the side of the building and ran over to it, climbing up as agile as a monkey. She ignored its shaking and pulled herself up the last four rungs with only her hands. Jumping onto the roof, she landed in the "frog position" George had taught her years ago, crouched down with her knees bent and one hand down to steady herself. The other went to the hidden dagger in her boot.  
  
The roof was long and Nyah saw the girl running across. Nyah silenced herself with her emerald magic and began to race after the youth, gaining on her rapidly. The child reached the end of the roof and Nyah smiled. She had her cornered now!  
  
The girl turned and saw the silent Nyah. The young woman removed her silencing spell and smiled. "End of the line, kid," she said.  
  
The girl gave another infuriating smile and a chilling stare with her golden eyes. "For you," she grinned. Turning, she jumped off the roof. Nyah gasped and raced to the edge. Is she insane? She'll kill herself! she thought shocked.  
  
However, what she saw when she reached the edge stunned her. "Oh my-" she said. The girl had jumped and landed on a clothesline six feet down. She was running across it with all the agility of the most skilled trapeze artist. She reached the other roof and jumped off the line, which sprung and elevated her jump. She landed safely on the other building, which was only one story, and jumped off.  
  
Nyah stood, gaping for a moment. Then without making a sound, she turned and walked back to the other side of the roof and climbed down, making her way back to the tenth alley on the right.  
  
When Nyah returned, Eric was helping George tie a piece of ripped cloak around his thigh. "Are you gonna be alright?" Nyah asked concerned.  
  
"Yeah," George said, although he was gritting his teeth in pain and sweat was rolling down his face. "Nothin' a healer can't fix in about five minutes. Did you catch the little bitch?"  
  
Nyah shook her head and quickly relayed the chase to the two.  
  
"I can't decide if she's a criminal mastermind or if she's just insane. I mean, honestly, who jumps off a building?" Eric asked. Nyah tried to stifle a giggle but Eric caught the gleam in her eye and gave her a smirk.  
  
Nyah blushed. "George we can get you a healer at the safe place," she said avoiding Eric's eyes.  
  
"What's this safe place you keep talking about?" Eric asked as the two of them helped George up and put his arms around their shoulders.  
  
"I found it a long time ago," she told him. "It's only a few more windows down."  
  
The windows were cracked and broken and Eric seriously doubted that they could get any help behind one of them. He kept his opinions to himself though. He had been through enough situations with Nyah that he knew the number one rule was to trust her.  
  
Each window was approximately twenty feet apart and Nyah began to count, George limping along between them. When she reached the sixth window, Nyah let go of George and smiled. "Tenth on the right and six windows down," she muttered. "After all these years, it's still here." She walked up to a mottled old wooden door and knocked on it three times. It looked as though it would crumble if someone touched it but it was surprisingly firm.  
  
She heard scuffling behind the door and whispers. A small slot at eye level opened and a pair of gray eyes looked out. "What'd you want?" Gray Eyes asked roughly.  
  
"Shalama," she said. "Estica nota padre rimotar intus."  
  
Gray Eyes squinted. Then, he abruptly shut the slot.  
  
"That went well," George said.  
  
The door creaked open and Nyah turned and grinned. "Yes it did." They walked in and Nyah began to speak in rapid Scanran to Gray Eyes. Neither Eric nor George understood a word of what they were saying, so they looked around at their surroundings. They had entered a drab hall made out of the same crude wood as the door, and lit by candles on the walls that barely gave off light. Behind Gray Eyes was a stone staircase that led down under the building. "Not much of a safe house," Eric muttered to George who nodded.  
  
As the two Scanrans were talking, someone began to walk up the stone steps behind them. "Jakal," he said in Common. "Who's there?"  
  
Everyone turned to face the old man who was coming up the stairs. Eric had no idea who it could be. He was tall and bony, hunched over. His white beard and hair were very long, almost reaching his stomach. He was dressed in a rough, homespun gray robe and walked with a knobby cane. Nyah's eyes lit up in recognition. "Artemis? Artemis!" she cried.  
  
"Nyah?" the old man asked in disbelief. "Can it really be you? It's been nine years. But of course, I'd recognize those eyes anywhere." Nyah smiled and hugged the old man.  
  
When they let go, Nyah eyes were wet. "So you've finally come back to visit an old man. I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever return."  
  
"I've got to admit Artemis, that I haven't exactly been looking forward to this. Coming back to a place where people are looking to kill you isn't exactly my idea of a reunion."  
  
"But you returned nonetheless," he said with a wave of his hand. "And who are your companions?" he asked, spotting George and Eric.  
  
"Oh," Nyah said. "Artemis, this is George Cooper and Eric Tanner, friends from Tortall. George, Eric this is Artemis Watcher. He took me in when I was ten." She spotted the bandage on George's leg and noticed that the blood was beginning to seep through. "Artemis, George needs to see a healer."  
  
"Jowa's teeth lad, what happened?" he asked, alarmed.  
  
"A monkey with an attitude tried to murder us," he muttered.  
  
"Well, I must say I've never come across a killer monkey in my day, but with the way things are now, who knows? Please come with me."  
  
The old man turned and began to hobble back down the stairs, followed by Gray Eyes and lastly, the members of the Rogue, half carrying their leader down the stairs.  
  
An hour later, George was resting peacefully on the healer's cot. The young woman who had healed him was through in ten minutes and when Nyah offered to pay, she merely said that it was not needed. "Ye're in Artemis's house miss," she told her. "All essentials are free."  
  
When she descended the steps, it seemed as though she were stepping into the past. The main room was the same way she had left it. Scroungers, blind, lame, and poor all were sitting in front of the large fire on slightly worn out couches, sipping hot mulled cider and talking quietly. Others were eating at a large table that was filled with trays of hot food and drink. An old woman was sitting off to side of the fire on a stool, surrounded by a ring of penniless, thin children dressed in rags. Nyah smiled as she remembered being young, being a part of that circle. The old woman had always told such fabulous stories.  
  
Off to the right of the warm, brightly lit room was the healer's residence. The healer was new but just as skilled as the former one had been. On the left were ten doors. Each of them led to a small bedroom with carpeted floors and a bed in each one. A closet stood on the left by the door and a dresser with a mirror above it. Artemis had sent someone to fetch the horses from the woods and put them up in a hidden stable behind the building.  
  
Nyah was unpacking her pack when there was knock at her door. "It's open!" she called. Eric stepped inside and Nyah's heartbeat quickened. "How's you're room?" she asked.  
  
"It's good," he said. She smiled and tucked her empty pack under the bed. Sitting down on the warm comforter, she sighed contentedly.  
  
"You know," he said as he leaned against the doorframe. "That was really brave of you, going after that girl. It's just too bad you didn't catch her."  
  
"I know," she said. "Believe me, if had there wouldn't be much left of her now."  
  
There was a moment of silence. Nyah longed to say something, but everything that came to mind sounded stupid. Can't I just say "Eric, come here and kiss me again?" she thought nervously.  
  
"Can we trust this Artemis fellow?" he asked her.  
  
"You can trust Artemis as much as you can trust me," she told him.  
  
Slowly, Eric shut the door and sat down on the bed next to Nyah. "I guess I can trust him with my life, then," he whispered, he face barely inches from hers. Slowly he moved in and gave her a warm kiss. Nyah shut her eyes, relishing in it.  
  
When he pulled away, Nyah heard a small moan that sounded like a child who wanted more candy after his first taste. It took her a moment to realize that it was her and that Eric grinned. He leaned back in and kissed her more. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around him. He ran his fingers through her brown hair and she brushed her index finger against his temple.  
  
This is all I need, she thought. All I need, just for tonight. 


	4. ShadowCat

1 Chapter 4  
  
The next morning, Nyah woke wrapped in Eric's arms. Throughout the night, they had kissed passionately. Her blouse had come off at some point and she was left in her breast band. She didn't remember when, but she must've taken Eric's shirt off because he was lying next to her in the narrow bed and Nyah admired his chest and stomach muscles. She propped herself up. He was still sleeping, breathing lightly. She swept a lock of brown hair behind her ears and smiled.  
  
She leaned over and kissed him softly. "Morning sleepy head," she whispered. His eyes flickered open.  
  
Eric smiled dreamily and caught her hand. He kissed it and whispered, "M'lady." They stared at each other for a moment when, suddenly his eyes grew wide. "Oh, gods!" He jumped out of the bed and yanked on his shirt, which lay in a heap on the floor. "I'm so sorry Nyah! I didn't mean to- I mean…" he sputtered.  
  
Nyah sat up quickly. "Eric what's the matter?" she asked, shocked.  
  
"I didn't mean to- to try and-" he said as he fumbled with his shirt buttons.  
  
He couldn't seem to get the words out and Nyah grew frustrated. "Eric! Didn't mean to what?" she asked again, stronger now.  
  
He took a deep breath and said slowly, "I didn't mean for it to happen like this. I mean, it was probably so awkward for you this way and- and you don't even have a pregnancy charm and-"  
  
Nyah sighed; she stood and walked over to the young thief. "Eric!" she told him, placing her hands on his shoulders. He stopped trying to button his shirt as she came close. He could feel the comforting warmth of her body.  
  
She looked into his blue eyes and couldn't help smiling, remembering how those eyes had closed with passion when she kissed him. "Eric, we didn't have sex," she whispered soothingly. "Not technically. We just kissed on a bed and then fell asleep. That's all."  
  
Eric looked at her for a moment, then smiled. She wanted him too. She wanted him just as badly as he wanted her. And that made all the difference in the world. "That's all?" he asked, pretending to be offended. "What, it wasn't good enough for you?"  
  
Nyah smiled wickedly. "I don't know," she said, getting closer to him. "You'll just have to try again tonight and let me see if I still enjoy it."  
  
He responded with a warm kiss. They separated and they both looked lovingly into each other's eyes, then moved in for another kiss. He leaned close to her ear. Nyah closed her eyes and listened for those words she had heard last night. Those sweet wonderful words that made her feel like she could fly.  
  
"We didn't even take off our pants," he whispered.  
  
Nyah opened her eyes in surprise. She stepped back and looked at him indignantly. "You know you can take the romance out of anything!" she told him accusingly as she pushed him away.  
  
"I know," he laughed. Pulling her close again, he added, "But I can put it back in again." They went close for more sweet tender romance, but suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Nyah sighed angrily.  
  
"Some people…" she muttered as she pulled her blouse on and snapped the middle two buttons. She opened the door and looked out. There wasn't anyone there. She wrinkled her brow.  
  
Then she felt a tug on her breeches and looked down. Two little girls, both dressed in rags, stood in front of her. Neither was older than five. One's big brown eyes were wide; the other wore a smug, satisfied smile on her face. "I told you," the smug one said, pointing at Nyah.  
  
Eric, hearing the young voice, came to the door. "Who's there?" he asked. .  
  
The little brown-eyed girl stared for a moment and then blurted out, "Are you really Nyah?"  
  
Nyah nodded, confused.  
  
"I told you," the other girl said. "I told you she's the one that Mister Artemis told us about." She turned to Nyah. "Did you really battle a dragon once? And a giant?"  
  
Nyah opened her mouth to correct the little girl but the other cut her off. "It wasn't a giant, Evette," she said, as if this were obvious. "It was an ogre!"  
  
Evette pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. "Nuh-uh!" She shook her head. "Artemis said it was an ogre!"  
  
"Giant!" the other cried back to her. They walked off, completely forgetting about Nyah and Eric.  
  
The two of them stepped out of the room, Nyah embarrassed and Eric confused. She fumbled with the rest of her buttons and Eric looked at her. "So," he said after a moment, "which was it? The giant or the ogre?"  
  
Nyah looked up at him in surprise, then laughed. "I haven't the faintest idea," she said. "I have to go talk to Artemis. See if he can find some things out for me."  
  
"All right," he said. "But remember, tonight…"  
  
Nyah smiled devilishly, something that made Eric melt inside. "Oh don't worry. I won't forget."  
  
An hour later, Nyah was sitting by the fire with her old friend, drinking Yamani tea. Most everyone had left the safe house during the day, going out to scrounge, beg, or search for employment. Even the children went out, hoping to get one or two pennies.  
  
The old man was hunched over in his chair and Nyah noticed that the firelight cast shadows over his face, which made him look even older than he already was. She was reminded of an elderly wiseman who sat alone atop a mountain, waiting for someone to come and ask for advice.  
  
They sat in silence for a moment, until he said quietly, "I see little Evette and Cleo came to pay you a visit this morning."  
  
Nyah nodded. "It was the strangest thing," she said slyly, her eyes looking over the rim of her cup at the old man. "They mentioned something about me killing dragons and ogres."  
  
"Not ogres, giants! I must have explained the difference to Cleo a thousand times by now," the old man said with a smile.  
  
"You told them those stories?" Nyah asked incredulously.  
  
Artemis's eyes twinkled. "You know when you were young you told me the same thing," he said.  
  
Nyah blushed. "I was a little scared ten year old!"  
  
"Yes, but nevertheless, the children do enjoy hearing the adventures of a girl with eyes like emeralds battling a good immortal or two," he said with a wave of his hand.  
  
The two of them sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, remembering those days long past when Nyah was a fierce little girl who trusted no one. It was Artemis that made her see that there were some people in the world she could trust.  
  
"Artemis," she asked him as she took a sip of her tea. "Is the League of Bandits still in order?"  
  
Artemis looked up at her in surprise, his gray eyes sharp. "Why do you want to know that, Nyahata?"  
  
Nyah smiled at the Scanran version of her name. "You remember that killer monkey George was talking about yesterday?" Artemis nodded. "Well we- I think she belonged the League."  
  
Artemis furrowed his brow. "What did she look like my dear, for I know the majority of all in the Bandit League."  
  
"I'm not really sure," Nyah told him. "I never got too good a look at her. All I know was that she was extremely acrobatic. She did back flips so many times it made me dizzy. and her eyes…"  
  
"Her eyes?" he prompted.  
  
"Her eyes were… well I think they were golden." Nyah laughed. "But that's ridiculous! It must've been a trick of the light or something."  
  
Artemis set down his teacup with a sigh. "Unfortunately my dear, it was not the light that made you see gold. Her eyes truly are that color."  
  
"You've heard of her?"  
  
"Hardly anyone in Kahanlanda has not." He sighed again and leaned back in the chair, looking into the fire. "No one knows who she is or what her real name is for certain. She's robbed from the finest and killed many who do not obey her wishes. All anyone is sure of is that she is around thirteen, acrobatic, golden-eyed, and, above all, deadly."  
  
"What's she called?" Nyah asked, spellbound by the feats of this young girl.  
  
"ShadowCat."  
  
That night, Nyah slipped out of the safe house to one of the local pubs to find this "ShadowCat". She wasn't sure why, but she felt compelled to. So, against George and Eric's advice, she left Artemis's place and back out onto the dangerous nighttime streets of the city. Her brown cloak hiding her face well and her knives loose in their sheathes, she stepped into one of the lowest bars in the city. Inside the atmosphere was quite different of that in Dancing Dove. In Corus, the feeling was one of fun and foolery. In Kahanlanda however, the ambiance was cold, cruel, and brutal. They place was dimly lit and crowded with burly men and barely dressed women. There was large cage in the middle of the room, and people surrounded it, jeering and yelling. Inside were two broad-shouldered muscular men, both with their shirts off and sweating profusely. Nyah watched as a man standing outside the cage took bets on the match. The money poured in and the fight continued, the two men pulverizing each other. Nyah walked away from the cage match, shuddering under her cloak. Killing was a fact of life; she had done it a few times whenever an unexpected enemy had ambushed her. But killing simply to see who was stronger…  
  
On the far side of the room, away from the wildness of the cage, was a bar. Nyah walked up and had a seat down, ordering a drink. She cast a side-glance across the room as she room, looking at the tables nearby. She knew that she was looking for ShadowCat, and is she were a criminal-and she was-, this was definitely a place where she would go to hide.  
  
Many of the tables were filled with men, some with women sitting on their laps. On one, men were playing dice, gambling on the outcome. Suddenly, a gambler with particularly large muscles jumped up and flipped over the table sending the dice and cards flying. "Ya tricked me! Ya lyin', cheatin' bitch!"  
  
Except for the distant shouting from the cage match, the entire bar went silent. Everyone was staring. Calmly, almost serenely, the opponent stood, the hood of her brown cloak covering her from head to toe. Only her face was visible and Nyah's eyes grew wide. "Golden eyes," she murmured.  
  
Sure enough it was ShadowCat who stood. "Ya lost Pachom. Whether fair or not, ya lost."  
  
Pachom grew red in the face. "Ya bitch! I'll kill ya! I'm gonna beat ya so hard, there'll won' be anythin' left of that smart ass mouth of yers!"  
  
The hood threw shadows over her face but Nyah could make out a grin. "Ya think so? Let's find out." Nyah looked from the girl to Pachom. The man had hands the size of cooking pans and he was thick and tough, as if he had literally stuffed muscles into his body. A sword hung at his belt, as well as a short ax and a long knife with dried blood. She doesn't stand a chance, Nyah thought fearfully.  
  
ShadowCat however, grinned. Slowly, she reached up and lowered her hood, then, as if in slow motion, threw off the cloak. She stood before them all, with that devil grin and Nyah sized up the girl. Her clothes were tight dark breeches and mid calf high black boots. Her top was tight also, long sleeved, and cut low to show off her feminine body. It was sheered off just above her waistline so that an inch or so of skin was visible. Her belt hung jauntily on an angle since there were no loops to string it through. On it hung several daggers and two long knives like the one Pachom possessed. Her weapons were cleaned so brightly, they shone like her unnatural eyes and reflected the dim light in the tavern. Her hair was almost as peculiar as her eyes. It was darker than night, as black as coal. It was short and cropped up to her chin. The thing that made it strange however was the streaks of blue that ran throughout her tresses.  
  
ShadowCat slid a slender hand down to her waist and pulled a dagger out. She looked at it for a moment, and ran her finger along the gleaming edge. Suddenly, like lightning, Pachom whipped out his own dagger and threw it straight at her heart. Without even looking up, she knocked the deadly surprise attack astray with her own weapon. It clattered on the floor of the silent room. "That was stupid," ShadowCat said quietly, meeting his eyes for the first time.  
  
With the speed of an arrow let loose from a bow, she jumped on a table next to Pachom and back flipped over his head. Bewildered, he spun around to find her and got a hard kick in the face for it. Stunned, Pachom dropped the knife he was holding and looked at her for a moment, dazed.  
  
The girl took advantage of the split second of opportunity and kicked him twice more. He fell to the floor with a thud and didn't get up. "Hey!" The keeper of the tavern made his way through the crowd. "Hey! Wot's going on here lads?" He noticed the unconscious Pachom on the floor and the girl standing before him. "Oh no," he cried. "Not you again! That's the third time this week lass! Get out of my place! I don't wanna see you here anymore, got that?"  
  
ShadowCat said nothing, only picked up her cloak and tied it only firmly once more. She pushed past the gawking crowd and left. Seeing her leave, Nyah rose and followed her. She silenced herself with emerald flames and crept soundlessly out the tavern and into the dark alleyway.  
  
If ShadowCat was aware she was being followed, she gave no hint she knew. After about five minutes of weaving through crowds, they took a turn down an alley where another bar was located. Suddenly, without even turning around, she threw a dagger behind her. Nyah hit the ground and sighed as the blade whizzed over her head and hit the brick wall behind her. "So much for the surprise aspect," she muttered. Jumping up, she threw the dagger back at the girl. ShadowCat cartwheeled to the side and dodged it easily.  
  
They both circled each other warily, daggers drawn. Nyah watched the wrists carefully. Even with the best fighters, the wrists were a dead giveaway as to when and where the knife would go next.  
  
The girl charged at her and tried to make a cut up from her stomach. Nyah blocked it and swung her knife towards ShadowCat's shoulder but was thrown off by the kick she received in her side. The blade slipped from her hand. She dropped and rolled, her left hand reaching for the hidden throwing star in her right cuff. As soon as the young fighter was in range, she launched it. Unprepared for this new weapon, ShadowCat was hit in the shoulder. The star sank deep and she bit back a cry.  
  
Nyah wasted no time. Taking the many lessons from George to heart, she grabbed a hidden dagger from the sheath at the small of her back and jumped up. With a useless arm, ShadowCat couldn't defend herself. Angrily, she pulled a no- handed cartwheel and then flipped over Nyah head. This was what the Rogue thief had been hoping for: the split second of time when the Scanran's back was turned to her. she swung the hilt of her blade out and slammed it into the back of her head. ShadowCat dropped like a stone. "Thank you George," Nyah whispered.  
  
Now maybe she could get some answers. 


	5. Bargains

Chapter 5

            ShadowCat opened her eyes and groaned. Her head throbbed horribly. She sat up and rubbed her tender skull. 

            "What the hell?" she whispered as she looked around. She was in a small room by herself, lying on a cot. Her belt with her daggers and long knives were gone, as well as the ones she kept in her boots and in the sheaths hidden by the small of her back. "Huh. Someone who's actually smart enough to look there." 

            Next to the cot was a small table with a lit candle and a pitcher of water. She eyed it suspiciously, wondering if it was drugged or poisoned. It had happened before. The door was directly in front of her and she didn't see a lock. She was about to get up when the handle turned with a creak. 

            She gasped and lay back down on the cot. She shut her eyes and pretended to sleep. "I'll only be a minute, Eric," she heard a woman's voice say. She shut the door behind her. ShadowCat opened her eyes a slit, looking through her thick lashes. Auburn hair, emerald eyes… Her! She must've brought her here! That- that- that-… An extremely nasty Scanran word bloomed on her tongue, but she stopped when the young woman placed a hand on the girl's forehead. _What the hell? she thought. __That's it! _

            ShadowCat's eyes snapped open. She grabbed the woman's wrist and jumped up fast. Pushing the young woman against the wall, she grabbed her throat and squeezed. "Where the hell am I?" the golden-eyed girl snarled. "And who are ya?"

            The woman made gasping noises and her eyes grew wide. She couldn't draw a breath to answer, but there was no way ShadowCat was letting go. The woman's green eyes narrowed and she gritted her teeth. Suddenly, she reached up and grabbed the girl's hands and pulled them off her with incredible strength. Twisting them behind the teenager's back, ShadowCat felt her newly mended shoulder muscle pull and she cried out. 

            "Sit down on the bed, and don't make any sudden moves," the woman hissed in her ear. "Or else."

            She looked about the room and sized up her chances. There was no room to fight, she was weaponless, and not in the best condition to battle this woman. She meant business and she was definitely a master with the knives. ShadowCat gave a curt, short nod. Fine. Let the bitch think she'd won.

            She sat down, her eyes never leaving the woman's emerald ones. "Who are ya and what'd ya want?" she asked bitterly in Scanran. She'd always thought it sounded more threatening than Common.

            Unfortunately, the woman wasn't intimidated. "I'm Nyah," she said, matching ShadowCat's bitterness with her own. "I'm the Princess of the Rogue in Tortall." She pushed up her sleeve and showed the girl her "R" with the crown of roses and thorns. 

            "Oh pardon me, Your Highness," ShadowCat said sarcastically. "I don' care if ya're royalty. What'd ya want?"

            Nyah sighed. "I want to talk to you. About the League of Bandits in Scanra."

            ShadowCat glared at her. "Ya attacked me, nearly killed me, and kidnapped me, and ya wanna _talk? Ya can forget it, lady! I don' even know what the League of Bandits is!"_

            "Yes, you do. And if you don't tell me…" Nyah said coldly. 

            ShadowCat glared, but it was a half-hearted effort. What exactly would Nyah do if she didn't tell her about the League? 

            "What'd ya care 'bout the League? Ya ain' gettin' nothin' from me, bitch. I ain' no squealer or a traitor."

            "I'm not asking you to squeal, or betray your King. Would a thief betray another?"

            ShadowCat gave a short laugh. "Maybe not where ya come, but here, lady we'd do anythin' for some money."

            "Money, huh?" Nyah muttered. "Listen. I'm willing to make a deal with you. Take us to your King and we'll come to an agreement." 

            "Agreement? No way lady. We make all 'agreements' now."

            "What is it that you want?"

            "Ya wanna meet the King? What's in it for me?"

            "You?"

            "Yeah. I don' do nothin' for free lady."

            This girl was clearly a con artist. "How much do you want?"

            ShadowCat smirked and her golden eyes glinted. "Fifty gold pieces."

            "Twenty."

            "Forty."

            "Twenty-five."

            "Thirty-five."

            "Thirty and no more than that," Nyah said. "Take it or leave it."

            ShadowCat considered it. Thirty could get her all new equipment as well as all new clothes and dye for her hair. "Deal," she said. She held out her hand and Nyah shook it. 

            "Now get some rest," Nyah told her. "We leave tomorrow." As she placed her hand on the door, Nyah turned back and looked at her. "And, by the way, don't even think about trying to leave. This place is guarded tighter than a king's treasury." Then she left. 

            ShadowCat watched the door for a moment, fuming. She was planning to run tonight. However, she had a feeling that this woman wasn't lying. Finally, swearing nasty oaths under her breath, she flopped down on the bed and stared at the plain ceiling until she fell asleep. 

            The next day, Eric went in and got the still unarmed ShadowCat from the small room and brought her to Nyah and George, who were waiting patiently outside the safe house. Both were dressed in thieving clothes and bristling with weapons. George carried his sword and Nyah had her long bow and quiver strapped to her back. 

            "Who's he?" ShadowCat asked, pointing to George. 

            "I'm George Cooper, King of the Court of the Rogue in Tortall," George told her, a hand dangling near his sword.

            "Mithros lady, what'd ya do? Bring the whole damn Court?" She turned and looked at Eric, who was clenching his fists. "And what's he? The Duke of the Trebond section of thieves?" 

            "And who exactly are you?" Eric asked. 

            She gave him a falsely bright smile. "The name's Cat- short for ShadowCat. That's all ya need ta know and that's all I'm gonna tell ya." She turned back to Nyah. "So where's my money?" 

            Nyah shook her head. "Uh-uh. You get your payment, _after we talk to the King."_

            Cat scowled, bested again. "Fine then. But not the three of ya. Only ya and ya King here can come in ta the His Highness's presence. Ya boyfriend can't go in. Only Bandits and Royalty can see the King in his chambers." Eric opened his mouth to protest but Nyah walked over to him and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. He looked at her lovingly and she smiled. 

            "Okay, ya two are makin' me sick here," Cat said rudely. "Ya three ready ta go or not?"

            Nyah nodded. "Lead the way." 

            As she walked past George, he leaned over a grabbed her arm. "I'm warning you now, lass. Any funny business and this lady here has a better shot with the long bow than a soldier."

            "Why, Ya Majesty!" she said sweetly. "Do ya really think that I'd do anythin' ta put ya and ya followers in danger?"

            "Don't push you're luck, sweetheart," he told her, shoving her into the front of their little procession. 

            Cat led the Rogues through the streets of Kahanlanda into places Nyah didn't even know existed. From the look of the occupants though, Cat was definitely fulfilling her promise to get them into the League of Bandits' area. As they walked deeper and deeper into the heart of the city, Cat got harsher and harsher in her tone of voice and her language. 

            "Shove over, buddy," she told one man who was in her way. 

            "Hey ShadowBaby," yelled a man, who was surrounded by particularly mean looking thugs. "Why don' ya come over here and sit on papa's lap, huh?"

            Cat smiled and said something in Scanran the neither George nor Eric understood, but Nyah did and gawked at the girl for a moment. Cat merely shrugged and told Nyah to hurry up.

            When they reached a final door, Cat knocked three times. "Ya wait here," she told Eric, when the door opened. 

            Eric stepped aside and Nyah walked over to him. "Be careful," he told her. "I don't trust this girl anymore than I trust a rat."

            "Don't worry," Nyah whispered. "I will." She leaned forward and kissed him gently. "I'll be right back."

            Cat rolled her eyes. "I'm gonna hurl," she said. A guard at the doorway motioned for them to come inside and she said, "Come on, lady. We ain' got all day."

The guard, a heavily built man in armor and carrying a spear, looked and Cat with hate. "Identify yourself," he commanded.

Cat sighed with annoyance. "Come on, ya ass, ya know who I am."

"Identify yourself," he said again. 

Cat sighed. She thrust her arm forward, pushed up her sleeve, and showed the man a tattoo on the inside of her wrist. Nyah got a quick glimpse of it. It was two black crossed daggers with two blue snakes entwined around them. It looked rather strange to Nyah and she shivered at the site of it. The guard nodded his head when he saw. He glanced at Nyah and George, then glared at Cat. "They're here ta see His Highness," she said. 

"Are they secure?" he asked harshly.

"Would I have brought them if they weren't?" Cat said impatiently. "Come on ya ass, I've better things ta do than stand here and talk ta ya." 

As the guard opened the door, Nyah overheard him mutter something in Scanran about not trusting outsiders. _He's talking about us,_ she thought. _He probably doesn't even realize I'm from here. My skin has gotten so much darker since I've been in the south and I scarcely have an accent. _

The door creaked open and ShadowCat motioned to George and Nyah. "Come on," she said. Nyah glanced at George and the two of them followed Cat into the room. 

The first thing Nyah noticed was how dark it was. Blinking, she adjusted her eyes to the dim light that was given off by the torches that lined the walls. She gave an involuntary shudder as she thought about her week spent in the Palace's dungeons two years ago. This place looked just like it. She looked at George and he nodded. The time that they had spent in the dungeons had taken its toll mentally on both of them.

 The room was peculiar; not at all like the common room of the Dancing Dove back home. Here, there was no dancing, laughing or drinking. A man sat in a large chair with his back to the fire. The shadows played on his face and Nyah couldn't make out what he looked like. George and Nyah's faces were blank but she secretly felt nervous.

 Cat, however, didn't look at all nervous. She strode up to the chair and dropped on one knee. Bowing her head, she placed her right fist over her heart. "My liege," she said formally. 

"ShadowCat," he acknowledged her, with a nod of his head. "You are known amongst out kind as a loyalist, if nothing else. And yet, I see before me, two who are not of our kind. Explain."

"I bring ya these two who claim ta be royalty of the Rogue in Tortall. I leave them ta ya and ya Imperial judgment," she said as she stepped to the side.

George walked up, his face grim. "Highness," he began, inclining his head. "I am George Cooper, King of the Court of the Rogue in Tortall." He pulled up his sleeve and showed him the Scar of the Rogue on his upper forearm. The crowned "R" indicated that he was King of the Rogue. 

The other King of Thieves nodded his head. "I see. And your lady friend?"

George opened his mouth but Nyah stepped up. "I can speak for myself," she told him. "Your Highness, I am Nyah, Princess of the Court of the Rogue in Tortall," she said to the man. 

"Princess? There has never been such a rank before. There has never even been a female thief as far as I know, except for ShadowCat, and she is of little importance." 

Little importance? Nyah glanced at Cat, but the girl's head was down staring at the floor accepting the slur quietly. "I was inducted into the Court two years ago, when I was fifteen," she said icily. It always aggravated her when others said that she had no business in the Court's affairs because she was a woman. In a way, she felt like Alanna. No respect from men in that sense. "Later on that year, I was branded into the Royalty of the Rogue. See?" She pushed up her sleeve and showed him her scar with the crown on thorns and roses on it. 

Nyah could make out the king's head nodding slowly in the shadows. "And what is it that you wish of me, Princess? Our countries have never gotten along well and the same goes for our Courts. Frankly, I wonder why ShadowCat brought you here in the first place," he said pointedly, glancing at Cat. 

Cat bowed her head, submitting to her king's words. Nyah was somewhat shocked. Only a few moments ago, ShadowCat was sharp in both weapons and tongue. Now she seemed as meek as a mouse. _If George ever talks to me like this, he'll be in for it, _she thought. "Cat- ShadowCat- brought us because we need a favor."

"Is that so? Well, I believe it is time for supper so if you two will join me for the meal, we will discuss further." 

"We'd be much obliged," George said. Nyah wouldn't have eaten with this man in any case except this was important. Her past was a mystery that had to be unraveled. 


	6. The Truth About the Chihopa

_A.N.__ Just incase any of you forgot, (shame on you!) the Chihopa were the tribe that Nyah was born into and they're like a Scanran form of the Bazhir. You know what happens after that. Anyway, I make lot of references to it in this chapter, (as you could probably tell by the title!) and just wanted to make sure none of you forgot. (I know you didn't!) LOL! Anyway, enjoy! _ Chapter 6 

            Before the meal, Nyah and George were sent to a side room to wash up. ShadowCat had been sent out to deliver a note to Eric, telling him to go back to the safe house. As Nyah poured water into a basin, she tried to shake off the feeling of apprehension that she had picked up in the king's presence. Over an over, the dungeon had crept into her thoughts. 

            She splashed some cold water on her face and closed her eyes. George placed a hand on her arm. "Are you going to be all right?" he asked concerned.

            Nyah nodded, grateful for her "older brother's" concern. "Yes," she replied. "It's just- everything about Kahanlanda and Scanra, it shakes me up."

            George handed her a towel and she dried her face. "I'm not surprised. You haven't exactly had many good experiences here."

            Nyah shook her head. "Did you see that tattoo Cat had? That could shake anyone up." 

            George nodded and washed his face and hands. "I've heard about it. The members of the Thieves have two crossed daggers, but the snakes, those are symbols of an outsider. Someone to be treated with caution and suspicion."

            So the guard hadn't been talking about them when he muttered about outsiders after all. Nyah said, "I wonder what she did to get those so early. She's so young."

            "Well, right now let's worry about this meeting with this king, and then we can worry about the lass."

Cat picked up the pitcher of ale and made her way over to her king's table. _So far so good,_ she thought, relieved. The Tortall king and princess, whoever they were, seemed to be getting on good terms with Mical. They were talking in hushed, quiet voices. The princess seemed to be talking the most and Mical was interested. Frankly, Cat wondered how on earth the princess got away with talking so much without being struck or bellowed at by her king. Cat shivered and rubbed her arm tenderly. One of the men had struck her the other day for getting a larger heist than she did. It wasn't fair, but she had learned a long time ago not to argue with men like that. Nobody cared about her. She had to take care of herself. 

"ShadowCat! Come on lass, bring the ale!" Cat scurried over to the table and refilled Mical's goblet, as well as the George and Nyah's. 

"Thanks," the young woman said. Cat stopped in her tracks. Her jaw dropped a little, and she realized that Nyah must have noticed because she glanced at her with an odd look. 

Cat shook her head a bit, then gave a curt nod. So one person gave an utterance of thanks. _Don't let it go to your head. _

"Don't bother thanking her," Mical said loudly, as Cat turned with the half-empty pitcher. Her pace slowed and she gritted her teeth. "She isn't worth the time or the trouble." She began to squeeze the handle hard. "Now, about this quest of yours- ShadowCat!" 

The glass pitcher exploded in her grip and ale showered her and Mical, though little pieces of glass hit her, leaving tiny cuts on her face and arms. She gasped and placed a hand on her face, wincing as the tiny shards of glass that were caught in the cuts, sunk slightly deeper. 

"You bitch!" Mical yelled at her, rising angrily from his chair. The whole room had gone deathly quiet and the guards at the doors stood ready. They could always use an excuse to beat the girl. "You ungrateful little wretch!"

Cat bit her lip, holding back her cries of pain and rage. She couldn't get on bad terms with her king! She was here on a trial; no one would trust her if the king didn't. She dropped to her knees in front of Mical, accepting the horrible words. There was a flogging her future, she could tell. "You dare to be so foolish as to-"

"Hey!" Someone cut off Mical and even Cat looked up in shock. Nyah had stood, fists clenched in rage. She walked over and crouched down next to Cat. "Are you all right?" she asked calmly. 

Cat gritted her teeth. "Ya shouldn' have done that," she whispered, afraid that if she spoke to loudly, the pain would get the better of her and she'd cry out. The ale had mixed in with the blood and glass on her face was really starting to burn. 

"How _dare_ you?" Mical fumed, his face turning red. George's hands strayed to his daggers.

Nyah looked up at him, emerald eyes sparking. "Begging your pardon, sir," she said clearly, struggling to keep her voice even. "But can you not see that the child is hurt?"

"That _child,_ as you so delicately call her, has been nothing more than a thorn in the side of the League since she came to us!" There were several murmurs of agreement from the men gathered. "And you!" he cried. "You dare to defend her! You came here asking for help on this stupid quest of yours! You can forget it!" 

"Now hold on a minute!" George yelled. 

But Mical wasn't listening. "But you," he said, pointing a menacing finger at the crouched ShadowCat, who was covering her face with her hands, "You are no longer a member of this League. You will be flogged and then cast out into the street with everything you own belonging to us!"

"My liege, please!" Cat cried. "It was an accident! I didn' mean ta do it! Gimme one more chance, please!"

"You've run out of chances, girl! Now-" He stopped and looked at the furious Nyah and George. The wheels seemed to turn in his head and he had an idea. They wanted to go on this idiotic quest of theirs? Searching for dreams from goddesses that didn't exist? Then let them go with a guide who was better off not existing. 

"You want a second chance, ShadowCat? Very well. You shall accompany these foreigners to their destination. They are seeking a man who was once a member of the Chihopa tribes." Nyah thought she heard snickers from the congregation and a smile seemed to tug at Mical's lips. "The journey is treacherous and long, but I'm sure it's nothing our dear ShadowCat and this king and _princess_ can't handle." Nyah could definitely hear sneers at that. 

Since Cat wasn't saying anything, Nyah spoke for them all. "Very well, _Your__ Majesty_. ShadowCat will accompany my companions and I to the Chihopa, but only if she is made an official member of the League when we return."

Mical almost objected, but decided not to. "Deal," he said. "Now, I suggest the three of you head back to wherever you've been staying. It's a long route to get to where you're going." More snickers followed and Nyah wondered precisely what was so funny. 

Nyah gritted her teeth and gave short curt nod. Pulling the dumbfounded Cat up, she and George left, the guards glaring at them. 

Cat stumbled numbly out of the tavern, Nyah gripping her arm. However, as soon as they were outside and the door was shut, the cold night air seemed to help her regain her usual sparkling personality. She yanked her arm out of Nyah's hold and placed both hands against her face. She never cried, no matter how bad her injuries were, but gods did this one hurt. The glass still seemed embedded in her skin and she tried her best not to notice it. 

"I can't believe ya did that," she cried angrily. 

"What?" Nyah asked in disbelief. 

"In there!" she pointed to the tavern. "I can't believe ya did that!"

"Lass, I just saved you from a severe beating, maybe even a pretty painful death!" Nyah yelled, losing her temper quickly. 

"No! No ya didn'! If anythin' ya jus' sentenced us all to a painful death!" 

"What are you talking about?" George asked. 

Cat sighed, exasperated. "Don' ya know about the Chihopa?"

"I grew up there for the first five years of my life," Nyah told the girl coldly. "I think I know a little more than you would." 

"Yeah but ya haven' been livin' here for the past thirteen years either!" Cat yelled back. "The Chihopa were wiped out a few years ago," she told them, trying to regain her temper. "By raiders. Any survivors were taken captive and only gods know what happened to them." Nyah and George stared at her in shock. "If we were ta try and find them," Cat continued. "The journey perilous. Hikes over sharp rocks, in between snow filled mountain passes. Raiders are everywhere as well as the Rebels."

"Rebels?" George asked, but Cat shook her head.

"I'll explain it later," she said. Staring at Nyah with her gold eyes she said, "Whatever ya were lookin' for with the Chihopa, it's gone now."

Nyah stood shocked and George put a hand on her shoulder to try and comfort her. Even Cat felt a small flicker of pity for the young woman who had come so far, only to have her hopes dashed in one blow.

That night, back at the safe house, Nyah sat next to Eric on the battered sofa by the fire. She was dressed in skirt and blouse and her hair was braided back into a bun, with only the single tiny braid hanging down in front of her. Eric's arm was wrapped around her and her head was on his shoulder. Tears rolled freely down her face, where they dripped down onto Eric's shirt, leaving it damp. 

She had been here the majority of the night, crying quietly, taking comfort in Eric. "All I wanted was to see him again," she whispered, staring at the fire. "To hug him, to be with him…" she trailed off as another wave a silent tears rolled down her cheeks. 

Eric kissed her the top of her head and gave her hand a squeeze. "Don't worry," he told her. "It's going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay."

Later, Eric and George had gone to bed, but Nyah still sat by the fire, drinking tea. Even Artemis decided to let her alone. She decided it was better that way. She hated it when people fussed over her. She held the gold locket with the diamond "R" that George and Rispah had given her last Midwinter. She fingered it idly, turning it over in her hand. 

Suddenly, the face of the locket caught the light of the fire and the glare of diamonds and gold blinded Nyah for a moment. In that glare, she could make out the image of a young woman, with long black hair that cascaded down her back. She was dressed in a midnight blue and a crown of gold stars sat atop her head. It was Kiloa again, and Nyah wondered bitterly what she wanted. 

_You were wrong,_ she thought angrily._ My father isn't alive. He died when the Chihopa were raided. I know for a fact that those raiders that I thought had killed him were Chihopa in disguise. You were wrong, Kiloa. _

As if she could read her thoughts (_And,_ Nyah thought, _she probably can._), the Young Goddess said, with a voice like mountain springs and a wind blowing through the trees, "No, my dear, I was not wrong. Do not worry, for your answer will come to you soon. Be patient though, for I am not sure quite how long it will take."

What answer? How can I trust you? You told me my father was alive and yet here I am in Scanra and I've yet to find him. 

"My darling, just trust me. Have faith. Your answer will come. Trust me." Her eyes flashed a bright gold that grew intense. It grew stronger until all she could she was gold and she heard a hushed voice in her ears say, "Trust me." Suddenly, she realized that she was staring at the gold of her locket. 

Nyah's eyes grew wide and she shook her head to clear it. She fastened the necklace when she heard the sound of boots clomping down the stairs to the entrance. She turned to see who it was and saw two of the guards grasping a smaller someone by the arms. Whoever it was, was wriggling and squirming and Nyah heard several evil Scanran swear words mingled in with Common. "Let me go, ya -_nasty Scanran word-_ sons of bitches!" 

Nyah knew who it was even before she created the ball of emerald fire in her palm to see by. "ShadowCat!" The thirteen year old's face was washed and the largest cuts had been bandaged. A ragged old pack was on her back and she looked at Nyah and scowled. 

"This little viper was tryin' to break into the house," one of the guards said. "When we caught her, she said she was lookin' for you, Mistress Nyahata."

"Release her," Nyah told them. They did so and Cat turned and uttered some more unspeakable Scanran at them. The guards seemed unconcerned with those types of threats coming from a child however, and went back up the stairs to their posts. 

"What do you want Cat?" Nyah asked. 

"Well," she said, hooking her thumbs on her weapon-covered belt, "a couple things actually."

"One, ya forgot ta pay me." She held out her hand expectantly and Nyah sighed. Unhooking a purse from her belt, she tossed it to Cat. 

"There. Thirty gold pieces, like we agreed."

Cat nodded and tied it to her belt, next to an unsheathed long knife. If anyone tried to reach for it there, they'd get a sliced hand for their efforts. "Two, I ain' got nowhere ta go. And I- I-" she scuffed her foot on the ground and avoided looking at Nyah. "I was maybe wonderin' if I could stay here." Before Nyah could object, Cat rushed on. "I ain' gonna cause no trouble, I'll earn my keep, swear it! It's jus' that I ain' got no where ta go since I jus' got kicked outta the League. Please?"

Nyah looked at the girl hard in her gold eyes, but could find no treachery. "We'll see," she said finally, "I have to talk with Artemis. And you have to swear to the gods that you won't cause any trouble," she warned. 

"I swear on my honor," she said, then frowned. "No, wait. I don' have any of that. Well, I swear anyway," she said, brushing a blue streak behind her ear. 

"All right. I suppose it's my fault anyway that you're not in the League anymore," she said as she flopped back down on the sofa. Cat took a seat across from her on the old chair, and Nyah poured the two of them a cup of calming Yamani tea. "If I hadn't opened my gods-damned mouth!" she swore angrily. 

"Ya got that right," Cat said. Then she looked sheepish, realizing how that had just come out. "Sorry, I didn' mean it like that," she apologized. 

"Yes, you did," Nyah said. "But don't worry, I'm not mad."

Cat looked relieved; she was never very good at apologies, since she didn't make them too often. Nyah offered her the cup, but she shook her head and took a flask out from her pack and took a drink of ale. As she drank, she looked at the young woman in her pretty skirt and studied her. She looked so… sad. _Was it somethin' I said?_ she thought nervously. _I don' think I said anythin' wrong. At least, I _tried _not to._ "What's the matter with ya?" she asked bluntly.

Nyah first thought that the girl was being rude, using that tone. But, the more she thought about it, the more she realized that speaking that way was probably the only way Cat knew how. "Nothing," Nyah told her. "It's just…when I was asking about the Chihopa, I was hoping that we could find them. You see, I'm looking for someone and… oh, what's it matter now?! The Chihopa were wiped out; you said so yourself. I was so stupid to believe Kiloa. I-"

"Whoa hold on a sec!" Cat called. Her gold eyes were bright in the firelight, and as Nyah looked into them, she could see that Cat was hiding something, although she wasn't sure what it was.

"What?" she asked suspiciously. 

"Well, when I said the Chihopa were wiped out, I didn' lie," she said quietly, staring into the fire. "However, there were rumors –rumors only, mind ya- that a few tribes survived, made it outta there. Maybe… maybe who ya're lookin' for's with them." She stared at her lap, afraid that Nyah would be furious with her.

Nyah however, stared at the child in shock. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked.

" 'Cause I was…" she trailed off, determined not to say anything. 

"Scared?" Nyah suggested. 

_That_ brought out the Cat she knew. "Hell no!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparking. "I ain' scared of nothin' lady, 'specially not ya or Mical or anybody else! I been on my own since I was four, I know what I'm doin'! I ain' scared of nothin'!"

A voice flashed through Nyah's mind. _"Not ogres, giants!" "You told them those stories?!" "And why not? You told me the same when you were a child."_     This girl was just like Nyah had been at that age, thinking she was invincible. Fears haunted her dreams, but admitting that was admitting defeat. That was what Nyah had thought, and that was probably what Cat thought now.

"I'll make ya a deal," Cat said after she calmed down. "I'll take ya ta the Chihopa, as long as ya take me back south with ya. I won' stay if ya don' want, but I do want out of this gods-forsaken place, once and for all. So, do we have a deal?" She put out her hand. 

Nyah eyes that hand, then studied the girl with her hawk like eyes, from her blue streaked hair to the boots on her feet. Lastly, she looked into those golden eyes. they flashed in the firelight and Nyah realized that, even if Cat didn't keep her promise, she was willing to do anything to find her father. 

"Deal." She grasped the girl's hand and shook. 

"We leave at dawn," Cat said. "Be ready. The ride ain' gonna be fun."


	7. Disagreements

A.N. Hey y'all! Sorry this took me so long! I have two fics going, but I'm going to remove the other one and repost it at a later date because I can't handle more than one!!! LOL don't worry though because this one takes precedent. Also, just a forewarning, there is a suggestion of suicide towards the end, but it's only a few sentences, nothing major. Anyway, please read, review, and recommend! (I say that WAY too much!)  
  
Chapter 7  
  
Cat fell asleep on the couch, exhausted from talking. Nyah decided it was best to let sleeping dogs lie, and tossed a rough blanket over the girl. It's amazing how innocent she looks when she's not awake, Nyah thought absentmindedly. Then she saw Cat's hand wrapped gently over the hilt of her knife, as a child would clutch a doll in their sleep. Then again, maybe not.  
  
A blue streak fell on Cat's face, and rose gently like a leaf in the wind when she breathed. Nyah smiled. It was quite comical really, and she gently reached out and tucked the loose strand behind the girl's ear.  
  
Suddenly there was a tap on her shoulder. Nyah whirled around and, without thinking threw a punch. A brown-haired head ducked quickly and then popped back up again. George stood behind her, hazel eyes serious. Next to him was Eric with his arms crossed. "Please don't tell me she's staying here," George said, as if Nyah had never nearly punched his lights out. He was used to the quickness and surprises from her, although they could never match his own.  
  
Nyah didn't answer right away. She stepped past the two men and went over to the far side of the dining room where a cluster of tables sat. finding a pitcher of ale behind the counter, she poured herself a mug, as well as for George and Eric.  
  
"Well," George asked again, "Is she staying?"  
  
"Sit down, George. Have a drink," Nyah beckoned. She herself sat down and tapped the chair next to her.  
  
"Don't try and get me drunk to prove your theory missy," George warned. "I like my liquor, but I like my life more. Are you telling me that the little killing machine is staying here? I know that I haven't known Artemis as long as you have but even I know that he won't let that demon stay." He took a seat next to Nyah.  
  
Nyah calmly remarked, "Don't worry. She's not staying here."  
  
Eric, who had also sat down and picked up his tankard, sighed with relief. "Thank the gods. When we saw her here we thought for sure she-"  
  
"She's coming with us," Nyah said, just as calmly. She watched as both men's eyes grew wide and they seemed to choke on the ale.  
  
"Us?" George gasped, his face red. "Back to Corus? Nyah that's like bringing back a plague!"  
  
"No it's not," she said in the same oddly calm tone. "We made a deal. She's going to show me where the Chihopa live and I'm going to take her back to Corus."  
  
"Another deal?!" Eric cried.  
  
George was also beginning to lose patience. After all, he was King of the Rogue wasn't he? It was he who would call the shots, not his second-in- command. "Listen Nyah!" he said, temper rising as he stood from his chair. "The Chihopa are gone! They're dead and I'm sorry but so is your father!"  
  
As soon as he said it, he knew he had gone too far. He had forgotten that Nyah also had a fiery temper as well. She jumped up, nearly knocking over her chair. "No he is not!" she said through clenched teeth. "Cat told me that there were rumors of a few tribes that are farther up North that escaped!"  
  
"And you'd trust that little demon more than me? They're rumors that's all!" he yelled. "Gods damn it Nyah! Why can't you just take my advice?"  
  
"And what's that, Your Majesty? To give up? Well I'm sorry but I've come too far now and I'm not turning back!"  
  
Eric watched spellbound as the two people he had known to always be like sister and brother nearly at each other's throats. George's fists were clenched tight and Nyah's face was red with fury. He stood and walked to the other side of the table. "George, Nyah come on-"  
  
"Stay out of this!" both George and Nyah yelled at the same moment.  
  
"Nyah, I've let you have free rein since we got here and as your king, I'm saying that we are going to leave in the morning!"  
  
"I don't care if you are king, George, I'm going to do what I want!"  
  
They continued to yell, until they were close to waking the entire safe house.  
  
Finally, Eric stood again and banged his fist on the table. "Shut up!!!" he yelled.  
  
Nyah and George turned in shock. Normally cheerful, carefree Eric was glaring at the two of them with fury in his deep blue eyes. "I wish the two of you could see yourselves! You're acting like a pair of gods damned children! If you don't calm down, I swear to Mithros…"  
  
Unfortunately, the clash of wills was not to be undone. Nyah looked from Eric to George and glared at him. "I'm going to North with Cat tomorrow morning. Are you coming or not?"  
  
George gave a determined stare. "Nyah do you realize how long we've been gone? Four weeks! A gods-cursed month! I have a Rogue to run back in Corus and if I don't return soon-"  
  
"That's what this is all about?! Fine then!" Nyah snapped. "Go back to your precious Rogue, George! I thought I meant more to you than it, but apparently I was mistaken!" Not wanting to hear more, she stormed out of the room.  
  
The two men watch her go and then stood in silence for a moment. "Well that went well, didn't it?" Eric remarked. George sighed, took at long swig of his ale and refilled his tankard, then turn and went to his room.  
  
When he entered the room that he and Nyah shared, he found her angrily throwing things into her saddlebags. He picked up a blouse off the floor and handed it to his lover. "So you really plan to leave then?"  
  
Nyah nodded curtly. Eric couldn't see it, but tears were brimming in her eyes. "I'll show him that my father is alive. If he cares about his precious Rogue so much then let him go back to it! I don't care!"  
  
Eric came over to her from behind and placed his arms around her shoulders. Nyah wrapped her hands around them and heard him say softly, "You know I have to go back with him."  
  
Nyah nodded, comforted by his touch. This time when she spoke, it was in a softer tone and a tear trickled down her cheek and fell on his arm. "I know. Eric I'm sorry, but I just can't go home knowing that my father could be out there and I never found him because I didn't stay to search."  
  
Eric kissed the top of her head and she squeezed his forearms. "Well," he sighed, "If we really do have to leave each other tomorrow, let's make tonight a night we won't forget."  
  
* * *  
  
Cat heard Nyah and George arguing from the dining area. How could anyone not hear them? she thought grumpily. After all, they were shouting loud enough to bring down the house.  
  
They were arguing about her too. Gods, was there anyone out there who hadn't fought about her? George didn't trust her, and frankly, she didn't blame him. She hadn't exactly shown them she could be trustworthy, but then again, she wasn't. however, she wasn't lying when she told Nyah about the Chihopa tribes and for a chance at another life outside of Kahanlanda and Scanra, hell she would do anything for that.  
  
She sighed and rolled over on her back, clutching her knife to her chest. How many times had she thought about stabbing herself with this same blade? Letting herself leave this world and be free from all this pain and suffering; she was only thirteen and she had experienced more in her short life than most people ever would.  
  
But now in the dark, there was a glimmer of hope. Nyah was the answer. All she had to do was show the young woman where the Chihopa lived and then… then maybe life would be better.  
  
She heard George and Nyah storm off and saw Eric leave the dining hall. She had thought he was a weakling, but after hearing him tell off his girl and his king, she began to see that there was more to him than she knew. Could it be possible that there was more to her than she knew as well?  
  
She nearly laughed at the thought. Closing her eyes, she reminded herself that it was a long ride tomorrow and she wouldn't be able to get up and go if she was dead on her feet. With that, she rolled over and pulled the blanket up to her chin and felt the heavy weight of her knife hilt in her hand. It was the only thing she could trust. 


	8. Lullaby

A.N. Hey y'all! Now this is what I call fast service! If only pizzas made it to my house this fast! Hey just a thought, how come it takes a pizza less time than an ambulance to get to a house? Aw never mind! Sorry I'm drinking Pibb X-tra right now and I'm hyper. Anyway what I wanted to tell you all was that the song at the end doesn't really sound good unless you put it to a tune. If you can't sing, then for the safety of others, please put it to a tune in your head but if you can, sing away! Sorry I'm messed up right now but I hope the chapter's not. (Fortunately, I wasn't drinking Pibb X-tra when I wrote the chapter, just this Author's Note.) Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 8

            The sun was shining high above the treetops as Cat and Nyah rode along the dirt road through the forest area. Nyah was once again back atop faithful Thunder with her longbow and quiver strapped to her back. Cat rode slight ahead of her on a black stallion that she had went and "borrowed" from a hitching post that morning. Her long knives glinted in the noontime sun as she and Midnight- as she had dubbed the horse- walked silently.

            As a matter of fact, Cat had scarcely spoken a word to Nyah all day and the young woman was grateful for her silence. It hadn't been an easy morning. She had awoken before dawn wrapped in Eric's arms, in nothing but her breast band and loincloth. He was not yet awake and Nyah snuggled close to him, thinking about how this would be the last time in a long while that she would be this close to him. Would he still be the same when she came back to Corus? What if he found another girl? These thoughts and many more weighed on her mind like a heavy burden, and she said several prayers to the Goddess and to Kiloa that their love would endure. 

            After she and Eric were both dressed and packed, they went out into the dining hall where Artemis and George were waiting with a huge breakfast. Cat, Artemis had told them, had left early but would be back in a little while. There were some things she had had to tend to. Nyah decided it was best to let the girl take care of her "business" and not ask what it was. She had a feeling it was best if she didn't know. 

            The three Rogues ate in silence, and all avoided looking at each other. The dining hall brought back last night and Nyah fury as well as George's was barely extinguished. Nyah ate everything placed before her. She had packed some provisions and she knew she could hunt but she didn't know what Cat had in store for her and wanted to be prepared. 

            As the first pink rays of sunlight pierced the gray sky of Kahanlanda, the two men and Nyah and Cat, stood outside in the alley of the safe house checking their saddlebags one last time. Finally, there was no more preparing and everyone seemed to stand about awkwardly, except for Cat who was sitting atop Midnight impatiently. 

            "Well," Nyah said stiffly. "Goodbye George. I'll see you in a few weeks."

            "Good luck," he replied as he climbed on his horse. "I'll see you." Then, feeling rather stupid, he rode the horse out of the alley and waited for Eric on the main road. 

            Nyah turned to Eric and smiled weakly. She walked over and they hugged tightly. "Take care of yourself. I'll see you soon," she whispered. 

            "I will. Good luck. And don't worry about George. He'll cool down. He always does after a few days."

            "I'll miss you."

            "I'll miss you, too." He kissed her tenderly and brushed the single braid she wore behind her ear. He noticed fondly that she was wearing the earbobs he had given her for Midwinter. "Be safe. Watch your back."

            Nyah nodded and then, with a final glance into his deep blue eyes, turn abruptly and climbed bareback onto Thunder. "Nyah," Eric called. She looked back. "I love you," he said. 

            Nyah smiled. "I love you too," she whispered. 

            Cat rolled her eyes. "I'd love ta leave sometime this year," she said mockingly. "Come on Princess. Ya'll see your boyfriend again."

            Nyah nodded and waved to Eric. Cat gave a whoop and kicked her horse into a gallop. Nyah did the same, blinking back tears and blaming it on the intensity of the newly risen sun. 

No the morning had not gone well and Cat had rightly said little except to tell Nyah which way to go. The plan was to ride north on the main roads for a day then decide what to do from there. 

            The rest of the day was uneventful. They stopped for a cold lunch then road the rest of the afternoon. When the sun set, they found a nice place to make camp by a stream. It grew cold quickly and Nyah and Cat pulled on capes. Cat gathered tinder and wood to build a fire. Setting them down, she prepared to pull flint and steel from her bags when Nyah conjured a ball of emerald fire in her hand and tossed it at the pile of wood. It caught instantly and Cat raised an eyebrow. "Damn! Wish I could do that. What else can ya do with that thing?" 

"Not much else," Nyah said. "Create light, pick locks, and make things silent if I want." 

"No wonder you're a thief," Cat said. "It's probably really easy for ya ain' it?"

Nyah shook her head. "Not all the time. It's not like I can make myself invisible. I can still get caught if I forget about my spell or my concentration is broken."

Cat shrugged, clearly not believing her. "Whatever ya say Princess. But since that Gift of yours can't catch fish, I'll go do it."

So Nyah set up camp and picketed the horses while Cat took a line and bait to the stream. She came back soon with two large salmon. As she cleaned them, Nyah warmed her hands over the cheery fire. It was dark in the woods and grew very cold at night. Only the hooting of owls and the quiet trickle of the stream told her that life went on outside their little campground. "Here," Cat said, handing the freshly cleaned chunks of fish to Nyah, "I ain' quite sure how ta cook 'em. Never really needed ta cook or hunt for my food before."

            "What'd you do?" Nyah asked. She placed the fish over a metal grill as she spoke cooking them over the hot embers. Flames would scorch the fish, that much her father had taught her.

            "Stole it," Cat said absently as she handed Nyah a pot to catch the dripping fat. "I've been doin' it since I was seven. Nobody ever suspected me 'cause I was such a little thing."

            Nyah nodded. "I know what you mean. I've been on my own since I was seven."

            "Five for me," Cat sighed, as if bringing up these memories of her past was somewhat painful. Nyah decided not to press. 

            "So where are we going?" she asked, changing the subject. 

            Cat's demeanor seemed to go back to that of being independent and rebellious as she pulled a map out of one of her saddlebags. Placing it in the light of the fire, Nyah saw that it was somewhat yellow and faded with age. The edges were torn and there were a few newer towns and villages that weren't there. However, there were several marks, red and blue little X's that dotted the page. "We're here," Cat said, pointing to a dot just north of the Grimhold Mountains and about seventy-five miles northwest from Alanna's fief, Trebond. "All these little red marks were where the Chihopa tribes once were. Supposedly, these four" –she pointed to four X's along the coastline- "still exist. Now if we start at first light tomorrow, we should make it to the coast by nightfall. Then it's a two-day ride to the first site. That okay with ya?" 

            Nyah nodded. "It sounds fine. At that rate, we should be back in Tortall in about four or five weeks."

            "Yeah," Cat said. "We." She rolled up the map and stuck it in her saddlebag. "We should probably turn in. Hey Princess?" 

Nyah looked at her. 

"I should warn ya," she said, not looking at her. "I ain' exactly the safest person ta be travelin' with."

Nyah looked at the girl; only thirteen years old and already she had just about as many enemies as the entire Court of the Rogue did back home. "Don't worry. I'm used to not being welcomed around here," Nyah answered honestly. 

Cat nodded and then stood quickly. "Well, better turn in. Gotta get up early. If we wanna make it thirty miles tomorrow."

            The two of them unpacked their bedrolls. Cat offered to take first watch. Nyah nodded absently as she snuggled down into her bedroll by the warm fire. She really hadn't gotten much sleep last night, for a few reasons. _Eric, Eric's kisses, Eric's touch,_ she thought with a small grin. 

            Cat, seeing the young woman's face and dreamy look, said, "Okay Princess I know what you're thinkin' and I ain' stickin' 'round ta watch ya start talkin' ta him in your sleep. I'll wake ya later."

"All right. Hey where are you keeping watch from anyway?" she asked on an afterthought.  

Cat smiled, turned and walked over the nearest tree. "Here," she said. 

"What? Cat you can't see the main road from there. There's a big –what's that word again? Oh yeah- _tree_ in the way, see?"

Golden eyes flashed in the darkness and Nyah shivered. There was something about those eyes that she would never get used to. "I know. That's why I'm goin' up." 

Up? The lowest branch was ten feet high! Nyah was about to ask how on earth she planned to do that when Cat smiled, flashing her menacing white-toothed grin. Bending her knees, she jumped high and caught branch easily. Using the momentum of her jump, she swung around the branch like a child on an old wooden swing, pushed too hard and going over the branch. Only Cat seemed totally at ease with the acrobatics and aerial stunts she often pulled. She did two full revolutions before letting go and flipped once in midair. She landed easily on the branch on two feet and smiled. 

Nyah's large emerald eyes were wide. "How'd you do that?"

"Hey," Cat said with a smirk, "Ya have your secrets, an' I've got mine. G'night Nyah." Pulling herself up, she scrambled through the maze of branches and in a matter of seconds she had reached the crown of the forty foot high tree and had an eagle eye view of everything for miles around. 

"Killer monkey," Nyah muttered, smiling at George's terminology. The thought of George gave her a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She regretted leaving without at least apologizing. _"A hole left unmended grows bigger with time." How many times has Eleni Cooper told me that?_ she thought. As she rolled over on her stomach, something hard was crushed between her breast and the ground. She pulled out the gold locket that George and Rispah had given her and turned it over. As she read the inscription on the back, a tear rolled down her cheek. _"So you always know where you belong."_ She realized just how homesick she was. It had been a month since she had last seen Rispah, Eleni, Ercole, Orem, Shem, Leon, Red Nell, 'Fingers… the list seemed to go on and on. And now, it could be another month, maybe even two before she would see them, Eric, or George. She sighed and tucked the locket back under her blouse. Its weight was comfortingly close to her heart and she felt herself drifting off into sleep, when a thought struck her. _Cat actually called me Nyah, instead of 'Princess'. That's a first._

*          *          *

Up at the top of the tree, Cat sat straddled on a branch. She didn't expect much to happen tonight and she reclined easily against the trunk of the tree. Looking up, she saw clearly the North Star as well as the two Bears, Big and Little. The Bowman, with his belt of three stars and bow gleaming brightly. However, none shone so brilliantly as the moon that night. She seemed to bathe the whole nighttime world in a soft shimmering white and Cat sighed peacefully, watching the stream that she and Nyah had stopped by ebb and flow out of site, the moonlight bouncing off of the cool waters. As she watched, a song arose in her head. She had always known it, ever since she was a little girl. Sometimes, she even liked to pretend her mother might have sang it to her, when she was a tiny baby. She began to sing it softly:

_"No matter where you and I are,_

_No matter how close or how far,_

_We always see the same moon,_

_And the same bright shining star._

_It calls us home with a guiding hand,_

_Protecting us from all the harm in the land._

_With its gentle glow it let's you know that you will be all right._

_You'll never walk alone, though at times it may seem so._

_Just know that I'll be there to protect you from sorrow and from woe._

_So when you look up to the sky,_

_And the star shines in your eye,_

_Always know that I'm there,_

_Saying a prayer,_

_For you, my baby,_

_My child, my angel of the night."_

            What Cat didn't know was that far below her, Nyah heard the girl's lullaby and fell asleep to the sweet singing of the child's voice. Both seemed to be reminiscing, thinking of their lost parents and how maybe, even though they could be miles apart, someone was out there saying a prayer for the both of them; and maybe, they were looking up at the night sky just like the two girls were now, wondering if their daughter was looking back.


	9. Encounters With The Past

Chapter 9  
  
It had been two weeks and Nyah and Cat were no nearer to finding the rumored Chihopa tribes then they had been back in Kahanlanda. They had already been to three of the places Cat had marked on her map, but all they found were empty dirt fields. Someone had been here, but they were long gone. Holes in the ground from tent poles, occasional black charred spots of earth where someone had let a fire burn constantly were the only bits of evidence that proved life had once been here. Once, the two of them even came across a large pole that was as thick as an oak tree trunk, painted with a picture of the a scary looking woman. Nyah shuddered as she looked at her, the head and arms upturned to the sky. Her hair was fire, her eyes were solid green, like a cat's, and her dress was smudged with a brown paint. The bottom part of the pole was black, burnt to a crisp.  
  
"Someone botched up on the skirt," Cat remarked. "Look they got brown spots all over it." She reached out and touched it but when she scratched some away, she saw that there was white underneath it. Cat's eyes grew wide as she watched. "That is paint, right?"  
  
Nyah shook her head. "No. It's not. That's the goddess Calami, the goddess of death, dying, and torture. The only way to please her was to offer a sacrifice. A human one."  
  
Cat's eyes grew wide with realization. She shuddered, wiped her hand on her pants, and made the Sign against Evil. She watched as Nyah muttered something and spat at the goddess's feet. "Come on," she said coldly. We have to get moving if we want to make it to Salt Harbor by tomorrow night."  
  
For once, Cat didn't say anything, but since they left the site, her curiosity had been pressing. They stopped at sunset and made camp. She was supposed to find as stream and catch dinner, but she didn't look too hard; her thoughts were too distracting. Something told her that Nyah knew more about this Calami goddess than she was telling. As they sat by the fire, she wondered what Nyah was hiding. Nyah didn't look anywhere but straight into the flames and her mouth was set in a grim line. Her eyes seemed to spark with emerald fire and Cat was itching to ask what she was thinking. Hey, she thought, if ya got an itch, scratch it.  
  
"Nyah-" Cat began, but Nyah cut her off.  
  
"I was supposed to be a sacrifice to Calami," Nyah said, still staring at the fire. "My mother died when I was born and by tribal laws, I was to be sacrificed to Calami or the tribe would be cursed. But my father wouldn't let them kill me. I don't know why; he loved my mother so much. But he wouldn't let me die."  
  
Nyah threw a twig into the fire. "I saw a sacrifice once. I was five and I wasn't quite sure what was going on. There was a young woman who had been caught with a man that her father hadn't chosen for her. The punishment was sacrifice to Calami. They took her and beat her with a metal whip for three days. Then they dressed her in this pure white robe. Well, it would've been pure white, except for the blood that seeped through the back. That blood always stained the pole. Always. On the third night, drug her to the shrine. They tied her to it and then-" she choked on these next words, "then they lit a fire underneath and burned her to death." She spat on the ground, as if to get ride of the vile taste of the words.  
  
"When she was dead and the fire had gone completely out," she continued, "there was nothing left but ashes. The priests scraped them up and took them out to sea. They threw them into the water and prayed that Calami would accept the sacrifice of her servants.  
  
"So that's the story. After that, there was a huge flood and everything was destroyed. The priests looked for someone to blame and they blamed me. My father and I barely escaped with our lives."  
  
"Damn," Cat whispered. She seemed deep in thought, golden eyes serious. "So was that where ya lived?" she asked quietly after a moment. "That last site?"  
  
"No," Nyah replied. "Each tribe had their own shrine to Calami; she was the main deity, you see. But all the sacrificial rituals were the same."  
  
"Oh. Sounds like a pretty evil goddess if ya ask me," she said. "It's a good thing ya got outta there before ya were fried."  
  
"Yeah," Nyah said, but Cat could tell she wasn't listening. The two of them sat in silence for a moment. Cat pulled an apple out of her pack shined it on her shirt. She crunched quietly.  
  
"Cat?" Nyah asked. "I've told you about my life. What about you? You couldn't just have appeared out of nowhere."  
  
Cat shook her head, blue streaks glinting midnight in the firelight. "No," she said firmly. "I already told ya. I've got my secrets and I've learned it's better ta keep 'em."  
  
"Don't you trust me?" Nyah pressed. "I told you everything and-"  
  
"Look I didn' ask ya ta tell me anythin'!" Cat said fiercely. "Ya did that on your own and don' expect me ta be best friends with ya jus' because we're travelin' together and ya told me about some damn goddess and some freaks who call themselves priests!"  
  
"Cat-"  
  
"Look, I said no!" She huffed and hurled her apple core into the woods. "I'm goin' ta bed. Wake me up when it's my turn for watch." Without another word, she left the fireside. Nyah could hear her digging around in her saddlebags muttering under her breath. The older girl sighed and leaned back against the tree. She was right though, she thought as she looked at the fire, she didn't ask. I just told her. What in the gods' names possessed me to do that?  
  
Her thoughts turned and she wondered what Eric and George were doing right now. Probably sitting in the Dancing Dove, surrounded by friends, drinking ale and being warm by the fire. She could picture Eric, his coal black hair falling into his clear blue eyes. She could almost feel the warmth of his kisses, touch of his hands on her body.  
  
She thought about George. Her big brother. She thought about the incident at the safe house and felt her cheeks burn with shame. She really did act like a child. George was only thinking about his duty as King of the Rogue. And what about her duty? She as the Princess of the Rogue after all, she thought as the long braid that she wore fell out from behind her ear. She fingered it before tucking it back where it belonged. She was second-in-command when George was away, and here she was in the middle of nowhere trying to find her father who, up until a few months ago was presumed dead.  
  
You know, life was a lot simpler before I joined the Rogue and began having conversations with the gods. She smiled and fingered the locket around her throat. The inscription on the back felt rough against her fingers. Rispah, Eleni, Alanna, George, Eric, Orem, Shem, 'Fingers, Marek, Red Nell… all of them seemed to echo in her mind. Simpler, she thought, but lonelier. Much lonelier.  
  
* * *  
  
Nyah switched with Cat at midnight and curled up happily inside her bedroll. Cat sat by the fire, leaning back against a large oak tree. Everything was quiet and she toyed with her dagger while humming her lullaby. Suddenly, she stopped. Something was wrong. She could feel it. Instantly, Cat sat upright. Her ears listened carefully for every sign of noise. She waited with baited breath. She heard the chirps of the crickets as they came out to serenade the stars. The call of the nightingale as it came to greet the moon. Suddenly, a branch cracked. She could hear the rustle of the leaves. Something was out there, moving around stealthily. "Nyah," she whispered as she crept over to the young woman. "Nyah!" She shook her.  
  
"Hmm?" Nyah mumbled sleepily. "What's the matter Cat?"  
  
"Somethin's out there, Nyah. I can feel it."  
  
At once, Nyah was up and ready. She looked around uneasily. "I don't see anything," she told Cat.  
  
Cat however, stood and went to the center of the campground, perfect battle area. She drew her long knife and stood balanced on the balls of her feet, preparing for an aerial assault. "Nyah, get your bow ready."  
  
Suddenly, as if on cue, seven men jumped out from the undergrowth. All their faces were covered by bushy black beards and moustaches. Their hair was scraggly and covered in mud and, from the stench coming their way, they hadn't bathed in awhile. They were dressed all in black and each held menacing looking, black daggers. They were dirty, covered in mud and filth, and evil, crazy grins were on each of their faces. The middle one with his moustache braided into his beard seemed to be the leader.  
  
"Well looka here boys! We've finally found Goldy! After all these years!" he said. The other men laughed infuriatingly. Nyah glanced at Cat out of the corner of her eye. Cat however, was staring at the men with flame of hate in her gold eyes that burned so brightly, they seemed giving off their own light. "What'dya say ya come home now, Goldy?" the leader said, with a wicked, cold glare. "Rikasa's been lookin' for ya for awhile now."  
  
Cat spoke some words in Scanran that Nyah couldn't quite identify, but they came close to, "Stuff it, ya sleazy sons-of-bitches. And take a bath for the gods' sake!"  
  
"Fine," he said. "We'll do this the hard way." He and his men pulled out their dark knives and bows and advanced on the women. Malice glimmered brightly in their eyes. Nyah could tell they had wanted to have fun.  
  
"Hey, Nyah?" Cat muttered as she pulled her daggers out of their sheaths, "Remember when I said I wasn't the safest person to travel with?"  
  
"Yeah?" She notched an arrow to her longbow, picking out the first of the raiders to fall.  
  
"I wasn't lyin'." With a war cry, she jumped high into the air and flipped, throwing a dagger while she did so. Almost at the same moment, Nyah let loose her arrow, hitting a man square in the eye. They were outnumbered seven to two, but Nyah had never been one to give up without a fight. She put an arrow in her teeth and shot again. A man hurled himself at her and she dropped and rolled over the cold ground. She shot mid-roll, and the man fell, the arrow protruding from his stomach.  
  
Jumping up, she saw Cat in a fierce fist and knife battle with the leader. He had slashed her on the cheek with his blade already, but the girl seemed to take no notice of it. She would've long ago been dead, if it weren't for her acrobatics. Someone crept up behind her with a long, black- bladed knife in his hand. "Cat!" Nyah cried, but it was too late. Cat screamed and Nyah bit back curses. The knife sank deep into her left shoulder and would've gone into the girl's spine if it hadn't been for a lucky jump to one side that threw the deadly and cowardly attack off by centimeters. Even so, he stabbed again, this time below the first attack. It was enough to render the girl's left arm useless, and the grinning attacker quickly threw her to the ground. She jumped up and pulled a one handed cartwheel but the two men had her cornered.  
  
"Cat!" Nyah yelled again. This time she brought two arrows out and strung them at the same time. Gritting her teeth, she let both loose at once and watched with an expert eye as they both sailed straight, then split and hit both men in the chests.  
  
There were two other men left, but not for long. With their leader down, they were lost and confused. Turning, they retreated into the night. Nyah watched them disappear and cried out, "Come back you damn cowards! Come back and fight like men!" But they didn't come back and a small moan from the side turned Nyah's attention to more pressing problems.  
  
"Cat!" She dropped her bow and quiver and rushed over to the girl. She helped her sit up, carefully avoiding her left shoulder.  
  
"It's fine," Cat gasped. "It's fine!"  
  
Nyah conjured up a ball of emerald fire to see by. Then she took out her dagger and cut the left sleeve and part of the back off of the shirt, taking care not to jab the girl with the knife. The wounds were two inches long and at least three inches deep. They had bit into Cat's shoulder and back muscles and blood was flowing freely. "No it's not fine," Nyah said. "You need a healer."  
  
"No I don'!" Cat said, as she struggled to stand up. However, when she did, she swayed and almost fell over. Nyah caught her, but the girl shrugged her off furiously and grabbed onto the tree for support. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and slowly let go. She tried to take a step, but reeled and this time, she didn't object when Nyah caught her and carried her to the fire.  
  
Nyah wasted no time. Eleni Cooper had taught her well and she knew what to do. First, she took the sleeve that she had cut off and tied it around the shoulder, forming a makeshift bandage. Then, taking her cloak over to the fireside, she wrapped the girl in it and propped her up against an old oak tree. She quickly put out the fire and packed the supplies. When she went to the horses, she swore. The two remaining raiders had taken Midnight and would've taken Thunder, except she had bit through her picket rope when she sensed danger. Nyah had to take precious time coaxing the mare from the trees and out into the open. When she finally brought the spooked horse back to camp, she hurriedly put on the bridle and tossed the saddlebags over Thunder's bare back. (She had never been one to use the saddle.) Gently, she lifted ShadowCat onto Thunder and then climbed on behind. Giving Thunder a kick, she rode hard into the night.  
  
Around daybreak, she reached the town of Salt Harbor. It was a tiny town on the coast of the Emerald Ocean. A long time ago, before Scanra was corrupt, Salt Harbor's chief import was spices, especially salt, with the Yamani Isles. It was thirty miles from the last site on the map and Nyah and Cat had been looking forward to sleeping in a bed for once.  
  
Now however, priorities were different. The girl had long ago blacked out and now she was leaning against the young woman and was growing paler by the minute. Nyah knew that she had to get Cat to a healer quick. She had a sinking feeling that knife blade had been poisoned.  
  
She rode down the main cobblestone street, looking for a healer's sign. If any of the early risers and fishermen thought seeing a strange woman dressed like a man with an even stranger looking unconscious girl on the front of her horse, they said nothing. They merely glanced, then went back to mending nets or checking their boats for the morning voyage.  
  
After a few minutes, Nyah came to house with a healer's sign, a cup with two rings around it, one red and one brown. She dismounted and, Cat in her arms, she knocked hard. The door was opened by an old woman with gray eyes and hair, severely swept back into a bun. She took one look at Nyah and the girl and said quickly, "Come in dearie; hurry, come in." Nyah entered and the woman had her lay Cat down on a table. A girl came in, possibly an apprentice, and the woman ordered hot water, fresh linen, and needle and thread.  
  
"You can lie down there and wait till I'm finished child," the old woman commanded. It wasn't an offer, but a demand. She pointed to a cot on the other side of the room. "You look like you could use it."  
  
Nyah, who had said nothing this whole time, shook her head. "No. I'll stay and make sure she's alright."  
  
"She'll be fine," the woman said as she bustled over to the apprentice who handed her a basin of steaming water. "Hannah, get me some towels. Scoot girl!" Hannah the Apprentice "scooted" out of the room, but not before gaping at Nyah. "Foolish child, really," the old woman said. "Excellent healing skills, but fearful of her own shadow."  
  
She quickly cut off the rest of Cat's shirt and unwound the makeshift bandages. Nyah winced when she saw the wounds, bloody and deep. What really made her cringe though were the many other scars on her back. Marks that reminded Nyah of a whip covered ShadowCat's backside. The old healer 'tsked'. "This one's been through the weather, she has. And so young too." She turned her attention to Nyah. "And you! I believe I told you to lie down. The child will be fine; don't worry."  
  
Nyah would've objected again, but Hannah came back into the room bearing towels and medicines, which the woman immediately took. She began to lecture the girl on what to do and forgot about Nyah. The young thief began to realize just how tired she was and sat down on the edge of the cot. At first, she said she would only sit, but then she lied down. She promised she would only rest her eyes but before she knew it, she had fallen asleep to the sound of the healer talking quietly to Hannah. 


	10. Dreams and Descions

Chapter 10  
  
That day while Nyah slept, she had a dream that was unlike any she had ever had before. She was walking through her old Chihopa camp, but no one noticed her. In fact, they seemed not to see her at all. She was invisible to them, and they were deaf to her voice.  
  
She saw young men and women, whom she recognized as the children who used to torment her when she was young. They had grown up now, with young children of their own and many of the young women were pregnant. Slaves, who were prisoners of war and captives that were never freed, toiled in the waist high cornfields. Nyah looked closely at them and one in particular caught her eye. He was an old man, all skin and bones, hunched over and he looked as though he bore a heavy burden was on his back. His ragged gray tunic was dirty and holes dotted it. His long scraggly beard and hair were as dirty as his tunic, and his eyes were sad. As Nyah looked closer, she saw a strange multicolored aura around him, sparkling and glittering this way and that.  
  
Suddenly, there was a scream and the sound of many horses' hoofs. Men, their faces swathed in black cloths, rode into the camp. They carried evil black swords and torches. They stampeded into the fields, trampling the slaves as they went. The gray man jumped out of the way with surprising agility for someone so old. She heard war cries and watched in shock as the raiders began to burn the huts and killing the Chihopa tribe. The attack lasted for only minutes, but to Nyah, it seemed to last forever. She had always hated the Chihopa for her treatment as a child, but never in her darkest, blackest of hearts would she have wished this on them.  
  
When it was over, Nyah watched in horror as the raiders in black dismounted from their horses and began to collect the survivors. They chained them together, women and children and the elderly were all screaming, mourning the loss of loved ones and their homes. They were dragged away from the dead bodies strewn about the camp, most of them men, who had made a vain attempt to fight back.  
  
The raiders plunged into the now smoldering cornfields and roughly yanked out the surviving slaves. Nyah watched helplessly as the gray old man was wrenched from his hiding place and thrown to the ground. Another raider quickly pulled him up and slapped chains onto his wrists and ankles, hooking him in line with other poor souls. At that moment, the old man seemed to turn and stare straight at Nyah. She looked at him and gasped. His eyes… his eyes were the same bright emerald green as hers.  
  
Then, there was a cry and a crack of a horsewhip. The line of Chihopa tribesmen and women began to move, surrounded on all sides by the menacing black raiders. Thunder rumbled and rain began to fall down as they left, putting out the fires, leaving the huts as piles of smoldering ash and soot. As Nyah watched the sad, pathetic leave of the tribe, she felt tears mingle with the rain on her face.  
  
She awoke to a scream. In a split second, her eyes were open and she had drawn her dagger. She looked around the tiny room in the dim firelight, but saw no one. Another scream brought her attention to the bed next to her. She saw that Cat was lying on the cot, asleep but tossing and turning so violently, she risked throwing herself onto the floor. She was sobbing and pleading in her sleep, screaming things Nyah had never expected to come from that girl's mouth. She only understood bits and pieces of what she was saying: "No, stop please!" and, "I'll be good, I promise! Please stop!" Then, "I understand, stop hurtin' me! Please!"  
  
Nyah rolled over and swung her legs off the cot. "Cat!" she said, shaking the girl. "Cat!"  
  
Cat's eyes snapped open and her hand shot up and grabbed Nyah's wrist. Her other hand balled into a fist and ready to strike, she stopped barely inches from Nyah's face. Finally awake, she was panting and trembling. She looked at her supposed attacker and her eyes grew wide with recognition. "Nyah?" she asked, gasping. "What the… Where did… When?" She released the young woman's wrist and placed a hand to her forehead.  
  
"You had a nightmare," Nyah said gently.  
  
"No," Cat whispered, more to herself then to Nyah. "No, I didn'. I wish it was one, but it wasn'."  
  
"What?" Nyah asked, concerned. "Cat, you've been here the whole time. No one was hurting you."  
  
"Huh? Oh, I know," Cat said with a strained smile. "Sorry, it's just… oh don' worry 'bout it. I'm good."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Nyah, I'm fine! I jus'- I jus' had a nightmare. And my head aches a little. It's no big deal."  
  
Nyah was unconvinced, but she let the subject drop. However, once again, she had a strange feeling that Cat wasn't telling her everything she knew. She stood up and moaned. Her body ached from the fight last night and she was as hungry as a bear.  
  
"Well, it's about the time the two of you woke up," a voice said.  
  
Nyah turned and saw the old woman standing in the doorway, a tray with two steaming bowls on it in her hands.  
  
"Who're ya?" Cat asked suspiciously. She was sitting up now and her bare feet were dangling off the bed, ready to spring into action. She spied her clothes, neatly folded and lying in a tidy pile on the other side of the room. Her belt lay on top of them, the daggers still in their sheaths.  
  
The old woman followed Cat's glance and scowled. "Oh, come now dearie. What would an old woman like me do to harm a lil' thing like you? And in answer to your question, my name is Sarah Miller, a healer."  
  
Cat glared at Nyah. " I told ya I didn' need a healer!" she whispered furiously.  
  
Nyah was ready to retaliate when Sarah said, "I may be an old woman dear, but I'm not deaf, nor stupid. Your friend here was wise to bring you to me when she did. The poison laced on the blade would've killed you if she had waited much longer."  
  
Cat shut her mouth and stared at the floor, embarrassed. "Oh," she mumbled.  
  
Sarah walked into the room and set the tray on a table. "You, child," she said, pointing to Nyah, "can come here and eat."  
  
Cat made a move to follow her but the healer turned around swiftly. "Did I say you?" she asked. "You, miss, are not to move from that bed till I say so. You can eat there and I'll bring the porridge to you."  
  
"I'm fine," Cat growled and placed her feet on the floor. However, when she made to stand, she seemed to be held down by an unseen hand. She saw Sarah's eyes sparking and the girl scowled at her.  
  
"When I say stay there, I mean it," she said. "Don't make me waste my Gift on something as stupid as keeping you confined to that bed, you hear me?"  
  
Cat grumbled and swore under her breath. "Fine," she muttered, sitting back with a huff. Nyah hid a laugh behind her hand and Cat glared at her with a look that clearly said, Shut up.  
  
"And your names are?" Sarah asked as she gave Cat her porridge.  
  
"I'm Nyah, from Corus in Tortall," the young woman said good-naturedly.  
  
"Name's ShadowCat. Cat for short," the girl said, shoveling a spoonful of porridge into her mouth.  
  
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Sarah snapped as she placed a kettle over the fire for tea.  
  
Cat raised her eyebrows. "Sorry," she muttered sarcastically.  
  
"What brings you two to Salt Harbor?" Sarah asked, ignoring Cat's remark. "Especially all the way from Corus."  
  
"We're… looking for someone," Nyah said lamely. "He's supposed to be around here."  
  
Sarah asked no questions, only nodded, much to Nyah's relief. "And why were you attacked by the Rebels?"  
  
Cat dropped her spoon in her bowl. "How'd ya know we was attacked by them?" she asked shocked.  
  
Sarah gave her a sharp look. "Child, I've been a healer for forty-two years now, even before the Rebels made themselves known to the rest of us decent folk. I've treated more wounds like yours with that exact poison on the blade than I have winter colds. And very few of them can take two hits that deep in the back and live to tell about it. You've got a strong will in you child. Not much sense, tangling with the Rebels, but a strong will."  
  
Cat couldn't help but grin a little at the old woman's comment. "I never said I was smart," she told the woman, "Just tough."  
  
For the first time, Sarah gave Cat a smile. Then she turned back to Nyah. "So why did those men attack you?"  
  
"I have no idea," Nyah said, with a side glance at Cat. The girl was fiddling with her spoon, stirring the porridge nervously. She stared the mush, and Nyah wondered what she knew. "We were camping in the woods just beyond here and they just sprang up out of nowhere and attacked us."  
  
"No reason?" Sarah pressed.  
  
Nyah's eyes flicked toward Cat. "We've finally found Goldy!" "What'dya say you come home now, Goldy?" "Please stop hurtin' me! I'll be good, I promise!"  
  
"No," the young woman said slowly as she watched the girl, "no reason at all."  
  
Sarah sighed and rose from the table. "Strange. They don't usually assault anyone unless they have a reason to. Then again, if you look at them the wrong way, that's reason enough for any of them." She sighed again. "Well, I have things that need to be done around the house. I'll see you both this evening. If you need anything, Hannah will take care of it."  
  
"Thank you, Mistress Miller," Nyah said.  
  
Sarah Miller nodded and left the room. She stopped just short of the door and turned. "And you," she pointed to Cat, "ShadowCat, Kitty Cat, whatever you are called, you stay in that bed, you hear?"  
  
Cat's eyes sparked and she folded her arms in a huff, and Nyah couldn't help but laugh as the girl grumbled under her breath.  
  
* * *  
  
The next day, Cat woke up before dawn, as she was accustomed to doing. She winced as the stitches on her shoulder pulled as she sat up in bed. She rubbed her head and groaned. That headache from the other night still hadn't gone away. Nyah was sleeping in another part of the house, a guest room. The girl felt oddly lonesome as she lay in the large infirmary. There were six other beds in the room and she was the only person occupying one. "Why should I feel lonely?" she laughed softly to herself. "It's not like I've never not been on my own before."  
  
She shivered and pulled the blankets tighter around her thin body. The fire in the hearth had burned to glowing embers overnight and even during spring, Scanra nights could get quite chilly. She wanted desperately to poke the embers and add another log or two, but Sarah was so… intimidating. With that Gift, the healer could bend others to her will, restore life, or take it away. Cat shuddered at the thought of it. She had never minded Nyah's Gift because she couldn't do that much. But, Sarah, she could kill just by willing it.  
  
Soon the shivers made the girl even colder and she couldn't stand it any longer. "Healer or no," she said as she wrapped the blanket around herself like a cape. "I sure as hell ain't gonna sit here and freeze ta death." Gritting her teeth against the pain in her muscles, she pulled herself off the bed and padded on bare feet over to the hearth.  
  
She found the poker and stirred the embers and ashes with her good arm, teeth chattering. She was just about to add another log on the fire when, "Hey!"  
  
Cat turned and faced the voice, brandishing her poker like a sword. "What'dya want?" she demanded.  
  
Hannah the Apprentice stepped into the room, a scowl on her face. "Didn't Mistress Miller tell you to stay in bed till your arm was healed?" she said, arms crossed.  
  
Cat studied her carefully. She seemed agitated, but there was a part of her hidden behind those soft blue eyes that was almost fearful. "Well, the room's so damned cold…" she told the girl hotly, turning her back to her. She continued to poke the fire, even though it was already roaring.  
  
Suddenly, Hannah walked up and yanked the poker out of Cat's hands so quickly, even the young thief wasn't ready for it. "I know what you are," she hissed in the girl's face.  
  
Cat looked at her and furrowed her brow. "And that would be… what?"  
  
"It's obvious," Hannah continued. "The signs are everywhere. Mistress Miller may not be deaf or stupid, but she sure is blind. Everyone here has heard the story, little miss ShadowCat. You know which one I'm talking about, don't you?"  
  
Cat stared at her with a bewildered look on her face. "What the hell are ya talkin' about, girl?"  
  
"You know," Hannah continued. Her face looked even more menacing in the firelight. "The story about a girl, unbelievably acrobatic and golden eyed. Her hair was like a raven's wing, it was and she was uncommonly good with weapons. Trained and bewitched to kill."  
  
"I dunno what ya talkin' 'bout," Cat scoffed, but beneath her cool exterior, there was a sense of panic.  
  
"Oh, I think you know what I mean. The Rebels. Their plan. Bewitching assassins, making them faster, stronger, better than other, normal people. I know about you, girl. I know everything."  
  
Cat's eyes blazed and she quickly threw the blanket off of her and grabbed the apprentice. Twisting her arm behind her back, she pulled a dagger. How foolish could this girl get? Like she wouldn't get her weapons back as soon as she could? She held it against the terrified girl's neck, just like she did Nyah when they first met. Years of practice had taught her just where to hold the blade on the neck, just how much pressure to apply. "Shut the hell up, lady," she growled. "Ya had better just shut the hell up or I swear to Mithros, Goddess and Thief, I'll make ya."  
  
Hannah's eyes were wide with fear. She swallowed and whispered shakily, "All right, all right. I won't say anything else."  
  
"Ta anybody," Cat demanded. Hannah hesitated. Cat pressed lightly on her neck.  
  
"All right! All right!" she whimpered, terrified. "No one, you have my word."  
  
Cat let her go and pushed her away. "Now get the hell outta here and don' ya breathe a word of this ta anyone."  
  
Hannah nodded while she backed away slowly, as one would a wild animal. Then, with a final glance at the golden-eyed child with the silver dagger glinting in her hand, she turned and fled.  
  
Cat sighed after she had gone. She looked down at her dagger in her hand and watched the fire glint off it. She thought about what Hannah had said. Rage filled her every bone and, giving a war cry, she threw the knife and it hit the wall with a solid thud. This was getting too personal. Too many things that she had tried to forget, tried to banish from her life, were coming back full force. Nyah couldn't understand. No one could. She went back to the cot and curled up in the blankets. I want out, she thought, blinking back tears, and I want out now.  
  
ShadowCat lied in bed, thinking things over, something she didn't do often. She knew one thing: she didn't trust Hannah at all. She knew that type. The apprentice would tell Mistress Miller as soon as she had the chance, and then… Then, she's gonna see me the way everyone else did. But what could she do? Her shoulder wasn't near healed enough to leave, and as much as she hated to admit it, the poison that had gotten in her blood stream had begun to give her brutal headaches, as if someone had taken a battering ram to her skull. I thought Mistress Miller said she'd gotten it all out, she thought. Must jus' be a side effect of the medicine or somethin'.  
  
She sat in silence for a few moments, thinking of a plan. "Damn it," she muttered under her breath as one idea after another was shot down, "damn it, damn it, damn it!" Her voice grew louder in frustration and she pounded her fist on the mattress.  
  
In the end, one option came to mind. "I could just leave," she muttered quietly, "Ditch the Princess and go ta a place in… aw hell, I dunno where but I'll go somewhere!" She sighed. No, that would never work. Besides, she felt a kind of loyalty to the young woman. She nearly laughed at that. Her? Feeling the ties of loyalty? Gods, a stranger would assume she actually had a conscience! She was never loyal to anyone; she never got attached. "I won' get hurt that way," she whispered quietly.  
  
"Then I guess," she said slowly, "I'm just gonna hafta stay here and wait. Damn it," she muttered. She rubbed her aching head and sighed. "I hate this. I really hate this."  
  
* * *  
  
A week passed and nothing changed. Nyah continued to explore Salt Harbor, taking in as much of the town as she could. She had never seen the ocean before and spent many horse on the rocky shore, smelling the salt air and feeling the cool sea breeze run through her long brown hair. She loved to look out and see the water never ending, just keep going till it met with the skyline. There was something about it that was so mysterious and powerful. She wondered what secrets the sea was hiding. She would think of the Wave Walker and she began to realize why the goddess chose this area to claim as her own.  
  
Cat's headaches didn't go away completely, but they did subside to a slow dull throb that only came up about twice a day. She didn't tell anyone though. She never complained about anything. "I hate havin' people fuss over me and treat me like I'm some helpless little kid," she had told Nyah once. Nyah decided not to tell her that she was a child, if not helpless.  
  
Sarah continued to come in treat Cat's wound and give her meals. She never treated her any differently that she did the first day they met. As a matter of fact, Cat hadn't seen hid nor hair of the apprentice since that particular morning. Maybe the girl didn' say anythin' after all, Cat had thought. That is, until the last day.  
  
Nyah and Cat were eating together at the table for a late supper. Each had hurriedly been packing their things into saddlebags. Sarah had announce that they could leave anytime, now that Cat's shoulder was mostly healed. That night, the girls ate alone, discussing their route. "We can make it ta the last site in two days," Cat was saying. "It's right along the coastline too." She grinned when she saw that spark in Nyah's eyes. "Thought ya might like that."  
  
Nyah smiled sheepishly. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she retorted.  
  
"How's supper?"  
  
Sarah came in through the door; she was carrying a long bundle in her arms that was wrapped in a piece of leather. She brought it into the room and set it down on the table. "Good Goddess," she said, wiping her brow. "I'd forgotten how heavy those were."  
  
Nyah and Cat stared at the bundle with wide eyes. "What is it?" Nyah asked.  
  
Sarah smiled. "Just a little something I thought would help you two." She unwrapped the leather. Inside were two swords, one slightly shorter than the other. They rested in solid black sheathes. Nyah and Cat stared at them in amazement. "Well, go on!" Mistress Miller exclaimed. "They work much better when they're out of their sheaths."  
  
Hesitantly, Nyah reached out and picked up the longer weapon. She gripped the hilt and slowly pulled out the blade. It slid out easily. It was sharp on both edges and as long as her arm. The silver blade shone in the light and faint trace of blue could be seen in it. What surprised her most was how light it was in her hand. "This," she started, eyes never leaving the blade, "This is fantastic, Mistress Miller!"  
  
Cat pulled her out and stood, taking a few practice swings. "It's so light!" she exclaimed. "An' ya said they're for us?!"  
  
Sarah nodded with smile. Cat walked over to Nyah and asked her, "So ya any good with that?"  
  
"George taught me," she said. "What about you?"  
  
"Oh, I think I can handle it." So saying, she drew the sword and swung it in a flashing silver arc, stopping it a centimeter from Nyah's throat.  
  
Nyah merely smiled at the razor edge blade. "A few weeks ago, that would've surprised me," she said mildly. Cat smirked. "I've got to go get Thunder ready," Nyah announced. "I'm assuming you'll find a ride?" she asked Cat.  
  
"No problem," the girl said.  
  
Nyah left and Cat went back to experimenting with the sword. "Thanks for the blade," she told Sarah. "But," –she stopped and looked at the elderly healer- "why d'ya give it ta us?"  
  
Sarah smiled and sat down at the table. She motioned for Cat to sit next to her; the girl did so warily. "Hannah told me everything," she said.  
  
Cat's eyes grew wide in fury and fear. "That two-timin', gods damned …" her voice trailed off, alternating between Common and Scanran curses.  
  
"Relax," Sarah said calmly. " I already knew. I saw the tattoo on your arm the day Nyah brought you in."  
  
"What? Why didn' ya say anthin' ta anybody?" Cat asked, incredulous. "Ya know they want me back!"  
  
"I know. But I also know your different. Your not like them, dearie."  
  
"And what makes ya think that?" Cat scoffed. "D'ya know how many times I've done what they trained me ta do? How many people I've killed?" she asked.  
  
"Yes, I have an idea," Sarah said.  
  
"Then why d'ya let me stay?"  
  
"Child, I let you stay because I believe that there is something good in you. Something deep inside that deserves a second chance to come out."  
  
Cat gave a hollow laugh. "I dunno what ya talkin' about. If I do have some good inside me, it must be really deep, 'cause I sure ain't found it yet."  
  
"Very well. But you think about what I said," Sarah said. She stood and left the room, leaving Cat alone with a lot of questions and very few answers. 


	11. Last Chance

A.N.: Hey y'all! I bet you thought I died or something! Well, I didn't and I won't make excuses, just apologize for not getting this up sooner. I've had three solid weeks of nothing but work and graduation, and then I had this severe writer's block. Anyway, here's chapter 11!  
  
Chapter 11  
  
Nyah and Cat left early the next morning and traveled for two days along the coast. As they went, Nyah began to notice several changes in the girl. The most obvious was that she began to carry more weapons. Nyah saw her one morning, tucking two daggers in each boot sheath, as well as four more on her belt and the sword and two long knives. Then she pulled two long leather straps from her saddlebag. They looked like belts, but they were much too large for Cat, or for that matter, anyone who could possibly be considered even remotely slim. She lifted one over her head and rested it on her shoulder, so that it crossed her chest like a sash. She cinched it like a she would a belt buckle and swung her arm in a circle, making sure she had the freedom of movement. She did the same with the other strap, resting this one on the other shoulder. When she was through, they made a type of leather 'X'.  
  
Before Nyah could ask what it was for, Cat turned her back to her and pulled out two plain, black handled daggers. She put them in two leather sheaths that were on her back, right near her shoulders. Then she seemed to freeze. Nyah looked at her oddly. She was about to say something when Cat suddenly spun around, short hair flying. In one fluid movement, she swung her arms across her chest, pulled the daggers, and threw them. Nyah barely had time to drop and roll before the daggers hit the knot in a tree, right where she had been standing.  
  
Cat scowled. "Damn it," she said as she walked over to the tree and yanked out the daggers. She wiped them off on her breeches. "Too slow."  
  
Nyah looked at the girl, incredulous. "What are you talking about?" she gasped, still unnerved by the sudden… demonstration? Attack?  
  
"If I'd done it right," the girl said nonchalantly, "Ya'd have been dead right now."  
  
She reached down to help Nyah up. Nyah looked at the girl's hand skeptically. Cat looked at her, golden eyes staring straight into her own emerald green ones. Nyah saw no treachery in those eyes. However she didn't see loyalty or friendship either. She didn't see anything.  
  
Nyah didn't understand. Normally she could read people just by looking at them. When she saw George, she saw a close friendship, one of family. With Eleni, she saw motherly love and concern for Nyah or George or Rispah whenever any of them did something illegal. Eleni was concerned everyday, now that she thought about it. Eric… Eric was pure love. He started out as a friend and soon they were sleeping together. He knew how to treat a girl, tenderly and sweetly, but at the same time he made Nyah feel strong and special.  
  
But ShadowCat… ShadowCat she would never understand. She reached up and took the offered hand. Cat pulled her up and went back to her business.  
  
Another thing Nyah had noticed about Cat was that she was becoming quieter, more reserved. More like she was when they had first met. She only spoke when it was necessary and she was constantly on the lookout for something. It was as if something was chasing her, like a fox chases a rabbit. She seemed as though she was walking on the edge of a knife blade. Danger surrounded her all around and if she didn't keep to the path she was on, she would surely fall to it.  
  
Nyah hadn't said anything to Cat though, and didn't plan to. She wanted to take what little trust they had together and build on it. Although, after the episode with the shoulder daggers, she wasn't sure if "trust" was the right word. She didn't think there was a right word for what the two of them had. Did they even have anything?  
  
These questions plagued Nyah's mind constantly. However, another question was growing in the back of her mind as well. However this one wasn't about her traveling companion. The last campground of the Chihopa was only a day's ride away, and Nyah hadn't seen a trace of human life. No smoke from cooking fires, no hunters' tracks, not even a corn or wheat field to show that someone was living there. And Nyah often thought that, if this camp was abandoned as well, how would she ever find her father? She was very young when he was killed, and her memories of him had faded as she grew older. The only thing she could solidly remember was known only because she saw the same thing in the mirror every day. Her green eyes, which shone so brightly, like two emeralds, were the same as her father's eyes.  
  
The only glimmer of hope in the back of her mind was the fact that Kiloa had promised, sworn, that her father was alive. He was there waiting for her, she just had to find him. And she would. With the gods as her witnesses and Kiloa at her side, she would find her father.  
  
* * *  
  
ShadowCat sat on the edge of a high, rocky cliff, looking out over the ocean. She dangled her legs over the edge, swinging them gently. The sun was setting and painting the normally dark gray waters a fiery red. She always loved looking at sunsets, although people wouldn't think it by looking at her. Her dark, mysterious life style where killing, lying, and thievery were common didn't make you think she'd like sunsets. Truth was, the sun was about the only thing she could trust in life. It would always rise in the east and always set in the west. It never changed, never tried to deceive, unlike people.  
  
She pulled her legs up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her knees. It was chilly out for a spring night, even in Scanra. She watched gulls fly across the red sky, shrieking to each other. To her, they seemed to be yelling a warning. Sure, she thought bitterly, birds are screamin' at me, the sky's blood red, and I'm getting' closer and closer ta the last place I want ta be. "And I still keep goin'," she said aloud with an ironic grin.  
  
She knew why though. If she took the princess to the Chihopa sites, she could ride back to Tortall with her. Maybe even go to Corus, start a new life. And with Nyah on her side, she could get a good name out among the rogues and thieves. All she had to do was play guide for a little longer, and then she was home free. "But why do I have ta play guide straight back ta the place I keep runnin' from?" she whispered angrily. Any normal thirteen-year-old girl would have broke down and cried right about now, but not ShadowCat. She never learned how to cry. Instead, she picked up a stone and hurled it over the cliff, watching it tumble until it grew so tiny she couldn't see it; she could only hear its soft tap as it hit the rocks below.  
  
"Great view, huh?"  
  
Cat turned and saw Nyah standing there, her hands on her hips. The sun was a mere red slit now about the water. Cat turned back to watch its final decent. "Yeah," she replied.  
  
Nyah came over and sat next to her, sticking her feet over the edge. "Gods we're high," she muttered more to herself than to Cat.  
  
"Scared?" Cat looked at Nyah with a saucy gleam in her eyes. The words came out as a challenge; Nyah wondered if the girl meant it.  
  
"No," Nyah said quickly. "Just… impressed. You don't see a sun like this in Corus." Then as an afterthought, she asked, "What about you? You scared?"  
  
Cat didn't bother to look at her. Instead she looked out at the last red rays as she answered. "I ain't scared of nothin'. If ya're scared, ya're weak."  
  
"There's nothing wrong with being scared sometimes," Nyah said conversationally. "Just like being weak. It only means you're human. Who ever told you it was wrong?"  
  
Cat hesitated. "I-I don' need anyone ta tell me that. It's simple enough. If ya aren't scared, ya aren't weak, so ya don't need help, and ya don't have ta trust anyone."  
  
"If you want help, you have to trust the person who is giving it." Nyah glanced at Cat from the corner of her eye.  
  
"Well, I don't want help –I don't need help-- so why are we even talkin' 'bout this?" Cat asked, temper rising.  
  
"I was just saying-"  
  
"Well, don't say anythin'!" Cat yelled, jumping up from the rocky ground. She glared at Nyah. "I don't need help from ya, or anybody else! I'm fine on my own and if I don't trust anyone, nobody gets hurt, especially me!"  
  
Without another word, she turned and stormed off back to the campsite.  
  
Nyah sighed and laid back, hands behind her head. "Damn it," she muttered. "That went well."  
  
That night, Cat was high up in a tree, keeping watch. She absently broke a twig off the tree and snapped it into tiny pieces as she thought. I can't believe that bitch, she thought angrily. She didn't understand Nyah at all. If you were scared, you were weak. It was simple logic. She had never been scared in her life. Never.  
  
Are you sure? a logical voice inside her head that sounded curiously like Nyah asked.  
  
"Of course I'm sure!" she growled softly. However, no matter how much she hated to admit it, she was beginning to doubt the basis on which she had lived her life for the past thirteen years.  
  
She threw the broken pieces of twig to the ground in disgust. "Of course I'm sure," she repeated, just to reassure herself. But was she?  
  
* * *  
  
Nyah feeling of doubt grew as they came closer and closer to the Chihopa camp. She couldn't hear anything. No voices, no lights, no signs of life at all. Just inevitable silence. There were no dirt paths that had been trampled down after many years of use, nor was there smoke from any cooking fires. Nyah shifted uneasily on Thunder's back. The horse was nervous as well, simply because her mistress was.  
  
Cat hadn't said a word to Nyah since their exchange at the cliff. Now though, Nyah was grateful for the silence. She didn't want the girl to hear how anxious she was. If her father wasn't at this camp, then she didn't know what she'd do.  
  
They were riding silently when Cat held up a hand. The pulled back on the horses reins and slowed to a stop. Still Cat wouldn't look at Nyah, although Nyah noticed out of the corner of her eyes that there was a look of suspicion on her face.  
  
"We walk it from here. I don' think they'd be too happy if we just trample right in," she said as she dismounted and tied her horse's reins to a tree. She gave it a quick pat on the nose and snagged an apple from her pack, feeding it to the horse.  
  
Nyah did the same. "Cat," she said as she slung her longbow over her shoulder, "how do you know that they'll be here? Remember the last two times? Burnt fields, bare grounds…"  
  
Cat turned and pointed through the trees. There was a field filled with long grasses taller than any man's head. "Inside that field, that's where the Chihopa are," Cat said. "See how the grasses are movin'? They're in there, plantin' in between the grass."  
  
"How do you know that's not just the wind?" Nyah asked.  
  
"Look at the trees," Cat told Nyah. Nyah looked up. Not a single leaf stirred. "No wind."  
  
"Oh, right," Nyah replied. Still, she couldn't help but fell uneasy as the two of them began to make their way through the long grass.  
  
"Ouch!" For what seemed like the hundredth time, Nyah yelped in spite of herself. She hadn't counted on the grass being so coarse and scratchy. Each time she parted the long stalks, the fibers would slice her hands, just barely drawing blood. They were finer than paper cuts, but stung like crazy.  
  
Both girls' hands would've been shredded to bits if the extremities hadn't been calloused years of fighting and work. Even still, the grass was like razor blades, barely nicking the skin, and Nyah's hands were bloody. She wondered vaguely why they hadn't run into any planters, but at the moment, another question was pressing on her mind. "Whose bright idea was this?" she asked irritably.  
  
"Aw, shut up Princess!" Cat growled. "Ya wanted- ow!- ta find your father! Quit complainin'!"  
  
Nyah glowered at Cat's back. She was tempted to take those stupid shoulder daggers and teach the girl how to play defensively. "I'm not! But how much longer- ow!- do we have to walk through this stuff?"  
  
"It's just ahead," Cat called back. "Now shut up and keep walking!"  
  
Sure enough, Cat was right. They trekked ahead, when Cat stopped suddenly. "Ya should go first," she said, turning back to face Nyah. "After all, he's your father."  
  
Nyah looked at the girl for a moment. This is new, she thought. She nodded and stepped in front of the girl. She took a deep breath. She still couldn't hear any noises, but the grass muffled everything. This was it. This was her last chance to find out if her father was still alive or if this was some sort of cruel, sick joke. She reached in front of her and parted the grass…  
  
…and saw nothing. Well, not nothing exactly. There was a camp. Tents were up and fires were smoldering in their pits. By nothing, Nyah meant no life. Not only that, but dead bodies were strewn about the camp in huge numbers, most of them men with their weapons clutched in their hands. The look of terror on their faces was one that made Nyah shudder, not only in fear, but déjà vu. She had seen this before, but where?  
  
"Nyah. Hey Princess, come on lemme see! What's goin' on?" Cat elbowed past Nyah, who stood dumbstruck in the grass. Cat stepped out of the grass and onto the body covered ground. "What in the name of the Thief…" she breathed as she looked around. Cat turned to face Nyah and for once, there were no snide comments, no back handed remarks. Only the deepest look of shock and sympathy Nyah had ever seen on Cat's face since she had known the girl.  
  
Nyah said nothing, only stepped out from the grass and began to walk about in a daze. Cat followed at a distance, unsure of what to say. The stench of death was everywhere. This had to have happened only hours before they came. Spilt blood was everywhere. Nyah looked down at the ground and saw a little girl's doll at her feet. That did it. She dropped to her knees and picked it up her scratched hands, brushing the dirty hair out of its face. Its face was covered in blood. She laid the doll gently back down on the ground and felt tears roll down her face.  
  
Cat didn't notice Nyah's crying however. She was looking at them men. They were lying, each in his own pool of blood. She noticed one with a sword stuck in his chest. She reached over and pulled it out, wiping the blade off on the ground. She looked at it and gasped. The blade was black.  
  
She dropped it as though it were hotter than fire and bolted over to the crying Nyah. she grabbed her arm and tried desperately to pull her up. "Come on, Nyah! We've got to get out of here now!"  
  
Nyah yanked her arm away. "Nyah! Come on! The Rebels-"  
  
She was cut off by the loud thunder of hooves. Both of them looked up in surprise. Ten huge black stallions burst through the grass. Each bore a rider wearing equally black clothes and capes. Their faces were dirty and covered with hair. These men looked just like the ones that had attacked Cat and Nyah the last time. "Too late," Cat whispered, never taking her eyes off the men.  
  
This time, Nyah let Cat pull her up as the Rebels stopped their horses. Each of them carried a curved black sword and laughed at the two females. They dismounted, laughing evilly.  
  
One man stepped forward, leaving barely twenty feet of space between them. "We figured ya'd be comin' 'round here, Goldenrod," he said in accented Common.  
  
Even under pressure, Cat still managed to keep her sparkling personality. "Well, ya know I was in the neighborhood," she said conversationally.  
  
"Cat what's going on?" Nyah whispered as she stepped backwards and placed a hand on her sword hilt.  
  
Unfortunately, the Rebel heard. "Oh didn' Goldy here tell ya? She's one of us. She didn' tell ya 'bout her precious family? And Rikasa? She didn' tell ya 'bout him neither?"  
  
Nyah looked at Cat from the corner of her eye. "Cat what's he talking about?"  
  
Cat didn't answer, but she wouldn't look at Nyah.  
  
"Proves how much ya can trust someone, huh Princess?" he said. She was about to ask how he knew she was Princess, when he gestured at the braid she wore. "Ya are a bit more famous that ya thought. Too bad ya won't live to go back ta Tortall."  
  
He signaled to his men and all ten of them attacked at once.  
  
* * *  
  
Instantly, Cat jumped and flipped in midair, preparing for her usual aerial assault. However, they were prepared for this. Ropes flew out of nowhere, latching around her wrists, ankles, and neck. They dragged her to the ground, down to their snarling faces. "Lemme go ya stupid bastards!" she screamed. She tried to fight back but the ropes were too tight. They bound her wrists and ankles and attempted to gag her. The Rebel who tried cried out and dropped in it surprise. "Damn it! Bitch bit me!" His finger was bloody and Cat did her best to kick and hit more but five at once was too many for her. One grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, making her cry out. The instant her mouth was open, they stuffed the gag in so hard she choked.  
  
The last thing she saw before they hit her over the head with the broad side of a sword was Nyah desperately fighting off the other five. She did her best to scream at her to run, but it came out as little more than a muffled cry.  
  
I've come back to the place I've tried to escape my whole life, and I've paid for it  
  
.  
  
* * *  
  
In Corus, George woke with a start, a cold sweat pouring off of him. He had just had the worst dream. Nyah and that ShadowCat were attacked by a bunch of men dressed in black. They both had fought bravely, but five against one had overtaken them and they were captured and taken away on the backs of two black stallions.  
  
At the end, he saw a young girl, with perfect features and long flowing black hair. A crown of gold stars sat atop her head and her gown was midnight blue. The looked directly at him and said, "Hurry. Time is running out! Save her!" Then he woke up.  
  
He rolled over and lit a candle. He dressed and went into the common room. Somehow, this felt like more than just a dream, but he didn't understand why at all. 


	12. Only Six Then, Only Thirteen Now

Chapter 12  
  
George couldn't get back to sleep that night, and when morning came, the rest of the Rogue found him sitting in his usual spot in the common room, drinking from a tankard. They didn't think anything was wrong with their leader; they just laughed merrily, thinking about how much alcohol he had consumed before the rest of them were even up.  
  
"You're getting worse than 'Fingers!" Marek said jovially, giving him a friendly punch on the shoulder. George just sighed and took another swig of his ale.  
  
The only person who apparently wasn't having a good morning was Eric, who trudged down the stairs, half asleep. He came over to George and flopped down in a chair.  
  
"Rough night?" George asked.  
  
Eric nodded. "I dunno why. I guess I just… how long would you reckon she's been gone anyway?"  
  
George thought for a moment. "Around a month I guess," he said. "Why?" He gave Eric a devilish grin.  
  
Eric cheeks turned slightly pink. "I miss her," he said quietly. "I really do. And last night… well last night I missed her a lot. That dream…" he muttered quietly.  
  
George looked at him sharply. "What dream?"  
  
Eric brushed his black hair out of his eyes. "Nothing," he said quickly, looking embarrassed. George gave him a look. "It's just… last night, I had this dream that Nyah and that Cat girl were at a camp, and they were attacked and captured. Then this little girl with a crown told me to hurry and save them before time ran out." He laughed a little. "But that's stupid right? I mean, there's nothing wrong, is there? George?"  
  
George however, was not paying attention. He was thinking about his own dream that he had last night. "This girl, was her crown made of stars? And she had black hair and a dark blue dress?"  
  
Eric looked at him, puzzled. "Yeah," he said, "How'd you know?"  
  
George groaned and held his head in his hands. "Oh, gods are we in trouble."  
  
* * *  
  
Cat groaned and her eyes fluttered open. She attempted to rub her head, but her hands were tied behind her back. Her head throbbed, and she could feel a dry trail of blood on her face. She blinked, adjusting her eyes to the darkness. Looking around, she saw that their situation was not good. They were in a small square room that was not more than ten feet in all directions except for up. There were no windows or doors; the only place where a tiny shaft of moonlight came through was a hole in the ceiling twenty feet up, which was covered by a grid of steel bars. A pole was erected in the center, and she sat with her back to it, hands wrapped around and tied with thick, rough seaman's rope. She jerked forward, but only exceeded in almost over-rotating her shoulders. Her ankles were tied together in front of her. She felt hands behind her, and twisted her head back to see a brown head of hair.  
  
"Nyah," she whispered, tapping her hand as best she could. "Hey Princess!" No response. She must still be out cold, Cat thought. Time passed slowly and Cat watched the moonlight as it illuminated the tiny cell. She sat there thinking about her predicament. She had twisted her wrists until the ropes had rubbed them raw and they bled painfully. She longed for her knife at the small of her back but every single blade, even the ones she kept hidden, were gone. Of course they'd take them, she thought angrily. After all, they taught me to put them there in the first place.  
  
She leaned her head back and rested it on the pole, looking up at the night sky peeking out from between the very solid looking steel bars. "Damn it," she swore quietly. "I am in so much trouble here."  
  
* * *  
  
Nyah woke sometime later, moaning. She was covered in black and blue bruises from the attack, and she ached all over. She cursed a violent string of Scanran that could've given Cat a run for her money. "Cat?"  
  
"Yeah," Cat said from the other side of the pole. "I'm awake. Ya okay?"  
  
"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer," Nyah said angrily. "You owe me an explanation ShadowCat, and I don't mean later. Right now, things are looking pretty bad."  
  
Cat tried to bring some positive thought to the conversation. "At least we're still alive," she said hopefully.  
  
"And it probably won't be for long," Nyah added. "So now's as good a time as any to tell me what the hell is going on."  
  
Cat sighed. "I… can't," she said helplessly.  
  
She couldn't see Nyah, but the woman was furious. She had trusted this girl and didn't even press when she was less than reluctant to talk about her past. Now they were captured and would most likely be killed by people from the girl's past, and Cat wouldn't even tell her what was going on!  
  
"Gods damn it Cat, I swear-"  
  
"Oh what are ya gonna do, huh Princess? We're tied ta a damn pole!" Cat yelled, losing her temper like she always did when the matter of her past was brought up.  
  
"Why won't you tell me, huh?" Nyah asked, just as loud.  
  
"I just can't!" Cat yelled back.  
  
Nyah could hear the anger and desperation on Cat's voice. It was teetering on the edge of control, but Nyah didn't care anymore. She was sick of being kept in the dark. "Why not?!"  
  
"'Cause you'll leave me!!!" Cat screamed, her voice torn in agony.  
  
Nyah, prepared to yell back, caught herself. Leave her? That was the last thing she expected the girl to say. "What?" she asked.  
  
"You'll leave me," Cat whispered, hanging her head.  
  
Nyah sat in silence for a moment. Leave her? she thought. Leave her? What is she talking about? She wriggled and twisted her body until, after five long minutes of struggle, she had moved herself around the pole, until she was sitting next to Cat.  
  
"What do you mean?" she asked Cat softly. Cat looked up and Nyah saw pain in those gold eyes. They drifted from Nyah's own, and Cat looked at the wall. She didn't begin right away and Nyah watched as the girl's face, which was always one of brusqueness and sharpness, soften into that of a normal thirteen year old girl's. It was as if a mask had dropped and she saw the child that Cat had once been, before she had been exposed the harshness of life.  
  
"Awhile back, maybe fifteen years or so," she began, eyes never leaving the wall. "'Fore the government fell apart, there used ta be just one Bandit Court in Scanra. Then when someone killed the royal family, chaos was everywhere. Everyone with power, money, or ambition was tryin' ta take over the throne. Killin' was everywhere. Ya was lucky if ya got home from work that day, if ya had work that is. That's when the Court divided. See, there was this young, really powerful mage, Rikasa, who thought that the Court could fight for the throne and take over Scanra. But the King of the Bandits, he didn' want to get involved in that 'cause he didn' wanna lose any of his men in battle.  
  
"Rikasa had more ambition than anyone else, though. He done went and took all his followers, about a hundred of 'em, and they left the Bandits. They turned ta the safety of the northern Grimhold Mountains. Outsiders. Traitors. Turncoats. That's what they called us." She spat on the ground, as if to rid the taste of the words from her mouth.  
  
"Us?" Nyah asked.  
  
"Yeah, us. About two years after the Rebels left and made a life for themselves, my mama had me. She died tryin' ta give birth ta me, and my papa was a Rebel who died tryin' ta fight for Rikasa. So there I was, this little orphan infant, and nobody wanted me.  
  
"In the meantime, the Rebels were losing badly at tryin' ta take the throne. They kept losin' men ta other groups fightin' for Scanra. But Rikasa wasn't stupid. He had a plan, one that involved magic. All they needed was a test subject. That's where I came in."  
  
Cat swallowed, reaching one of the hardest points in her story. Nyah would've hugged her, but she couldn't do anything to comfort the girl. Cat was on her own. She didn't even seem to realize that Nyah was listening anymore.  
  
She took a deep breath and continued. "Rikasa took me in. Taught me ta walk, how ta talk, all 'bout the Rebel cause. He was like a papa ta me. Then, when I was six, I began ta see what he was really all about. He started sittin' me down every night and talkin' ta me about magic and how he was real powerful. I was six and I didn' pay any attention to what he said. One night I 'member tellin' him that I wanted ta go play, 'stead of talkin'. He got real mad at me and started hittin' me and yellin' curses. He scared me. Kept remindin' me who he was and how he was bigger and more powerful than me. That happened at lot.  
  
"Next full moon, he took me out in the woods and had me sit down on the ground. He threatened ta hit me, so I did like he said, and he closed his eyes started sayin' all these words in some language. Suddenly the wind really picked up, and leaves started flyin' everywhere. Thunder crashed, and bolts of red lightning flashed all over. Rikasa's voice was gettin' louder and louder and I got scared, but I didn' cry. If I was scared, I was weak, and Rikasa always got angry and hit me if I was weak.  
  
"The lightning got stronger, and Rikasa began ta channel it inta himself. I watched as all of it went down and got sucked inta him. Then he opened his eyes, yelled really loud, and pointed at me. The last thing I remember seein' was his eyes. They were bright gold.  
  
"The lightning traveled out of his hands and headed straight for me. I screamed and tried ta duck, but it was pointless. It hit me, and I felt this burning power flow through me and I started seizin'. It was unbelievably hot, like I was being thrown inta a tornado made of flame. Suddenly it left, and I was frozen on the ground. The last thing I remember was Rikasa standin' over me. He was grinnin' like a maniac, sweat pourin' off his body. Then I passed out.  
  
"When I woke up, I was back in my bed, and I thought I had had a really bad nightmare. But I ached all over, and when I got up for a drink of water, I saw my reflection in the mirror. My blond hair that used ta be long had been charred by the fire and was cut short, up ta my chin. And my once blue eyes were gold, just like Rikasa's had been when he channeled the red lightning into himself. I ran out ta ask him what had happened, but when I saw him in the front room, he wasn't the same. He was colder… less fatherly. All he told me was that things were different—that I was different—now.  
  
"I started realizin' that I could do things that normal people couldn't. I could jump higher and stay in the air longer. I could flip and tumble and run faster and better than anyone I'd ever known. Rikasa started makin' me train with the men, fightin' and killin'. When I wouldn't follow orders, he would order the captain ta tie me up and beat me. I got beat a lot. That kept up for five long years.  
  
"By the time I was eleven, I was the strongest, most capable fighter among the Rebels. Rikasa felt it was time ta send me out on my first mission. I was supposed ta go and assassinate one of the enemy leaders so that Rikasa could get one step closer ta the throne. I went out, dressed all in black and armed with everything from the black knives ta poison- tipped arrows. I rode fifty miles ta their base and snuck in ta the main camp. I went ta headquarters. I did my duty. I killed him while he was asleep. Slit his throat so carefully, he didn' feel a thing.  
  
"On my way back, I was travelin' during the day when I came across this little town. I saw this girl, just my age. She was sittin' outside under a tree, just enjoyin' the day. And I 'member thinkin', 'I wonder what it's like ta be her? Just ta forget about Rikasa and killin' and beatin's and live my life like that. I wish that I could do that.'  
  
"I reported back, and Rikasa was so satisfied, that he sent me out on another mission the very next week. But I wasn't comin' back. I took my stuff with me and left. I wasn't gonna stay there. I didn' want ta rule Scanra or help the man who had made me this way. I was a freak. I was dangerous, and no one would accept me. I went ta the League of Bandits, and they inducted me, but on a trial basis. My tattoo-" she gestured to her arm, "-two daggers, like the rest of the League, but two snakes, the mark of an outsider. I told them where the Rebel base was, and they attacked it, scatterin' the Rebels. I thought I was done with them for good.  
  
"But over the past few months, they've been regroupin'. Before ya came, I was seriously considerin' just killin' myself ta be rid of life. But then ya and ya king and ya boyfriend came and ya three were like diamonds in a garbage heap. After ya and I got started, I was more and more wary about goin' north, towards them. But ya seemed so confident that we would be okay, I believed ya. When ya told me about ya past, I was afraid that ya'd wanna know mine. Ya were the first friend, the first person that didn' treat me like I was a dangerous freak, that I didn' want ta tell ya about me. I figured the less I told and the more distant I was, the less ya would be scared of me. Then I could go to Tortall, start over, make a new life for myself. An honest one, where I wouldn't be lookin' over my shoulder every five seconds, expectin' ta be kidnapped or hit or attacked. I could be free from everythin'.  
  
"So now ya know. Ya know every gods damned horrible detail of my life. Ya know why I am the way I am."  
  
Nyah stared at the girl in shock. This was… unbelievable. She had no idea what to say. The girl was thirteen, thirteen, and she had been through nothing but pain, suffering, and torture. She had never known what it was like to have friends, a family, not even a normal life. She had been abandoned by everyone, and treated like a freak. Something that was alien and unknown and feared by everyone. She was only thirteen.  
  
Nyah looked at the girl. "Cat," she said, her voice shaky. The girl looked up and her gold eyes were filled with tears. They rolled down her face freely, dripping down onto the ground. Nyah gave a small, sad smile. "I thought you didn't cry," she said gently.  
  
Cat returned the sad smile, and sniffled. "Only when I'm scared," she whispered.  
  
She leaned her head on Nyah's shoulder and sobbed quietly. "Shhh…" Nyah said tenderly. "It's gonna be all right. It's gonna be all right." But in her heart she knew that the odds of them getting out of this alive were one to infinity.  
  
They slept like that and didn't wake until the first rays of sunshine made it through the metal bars of their tiny prison. An hour after they awoke, Nyah heard voices and scuffling from above and the clank of keys. She was scared to death, but didn't let it show. She looked at Cat and saw a mixture of fear and hatred for what was coming next. The metal grill was lifted off and a rope was dropped down. A man slid down it with a knife between his teeth. He had an evil grin on his face as he let go of the rope and walked over to the girls. He stepped over to Cat first and bent down so that he was eye level. "Don't try anythin' funny, kid. There's a lot of us up top."  
  
Cat glared at him. "Then pity up top," she muttered. He jabbed her in the in the foot with the point of his knife as he cut the ropes that bound them. Then, he loosened the ropes around her hands and slid them off.  
  
He did the same with Nyah. The young woman was very tempted to beat the tar out of the man, but Cat gave her a look that said not to. He had a blade and they didn't, and there were plenty more like him above.  
  
"Get movin'," the man said as he brandished the blade. He pointed at the rope. Grudgingly, Cat and Nyah both climbed it, a little slower than usual, partly because of dread, partly because their legs and arms were stiff from sitting in the same position for so long.  
  
When they finally reached the top, Nyah looked around and was shocked at what she saw. She had thought they were in an underground prison of some kind, but apparently not. They were on a ship, anchored in the waters of the Emerald Ocean. The coast of Scanra was a mere line out to the east. Nearby was a rocky cove that jutted into the sea, almost out to where they were. Nyah looked up and saw high wooden masts on which hung huge white sails, limp for the moment.  
  
On the ship itself, they were surrounded by a circle of dirty, burly men who were all laughing evilly. More than one of them called to the girls, asking them if they wanted to come to their barracks to play. Nyah glared at them and clenched her hands into fists. She bit her tongue to keep back nasty oaths from coming out, but Cat didn't bother.  
  
"Shut up ya stinkin' bastards, or I'll beat ya all till there ain't nothin' left but a pile of bloody pulp," she snarled.  
  
"Will you now?"  
  
The men immediately fell silent and the circle of them parted to let someone through. Nyah looked at Cat, who stood there, rage blazing in her golden eyes. It was all she could do to keep from attacking. Instead she looked at the man and nodded her head in acknowledgement. "Rikasa."  
  
Nyah's eyes grew wide. This was Rikasa? She looked at the man, part in horror, part nearly uncontrollable rage. He was nearly a half a foot taller than her five foot eight inches height, and his hair was blonde like most Scanrans, worn long and pulled back into a horsetail. He was older than she thought, possibly in his early forties. His eyes were a cold ice blue and his clothes were a black robe that was undone in the front, revealing a plain white shirt and black breeches.  
  
He smiled coldly, showing bright white teeth, and walked over to where Cat was standing. "My dear… what is it you call yourself now? Ah yes, ShadowCat." He didn't talk like a commoner at all; rather, like a noble. "How long has it been? Two years I believe, if memory serves me correctly."  
  
"Not long enough, ya bastard," Cat spat. "What the hell do ya want Rikasa?" she asked through gritted teeth.  
  
Rikasa ignored the question and turned his attention to Nyah. "And Princess Nyah. An honor, I assure you."  
  
Nyah scowled at him. "What do you want with me, asshole?"  
  
He chuckled quietly. "My dear, you simply came with our little prize here," he said as he gestured to Cat. "But you are a bonus, I will admit. You will be an excellent source of income. How much do you think the Rogue of Tortall would pay for the safe return of their Princess?" He paused, inspecting her. "You look," he said slowly, "vaguely familiar."  
  
"Trust me, if we had met before, I would've killed you then."  
  
"What have we here?" he said, reaching for her neck. She took a step back and was promptly grabbed and held still by a man.  
  
He reached his hand by her throat and picked up the tiny gold chain. The locket slid out form under her shirt, gold and diamonds gleaming. "Well now," he said. "Isn't that lovely." He chuckled softly. "You know," he said, as if after a thought, "I'll bet the Rogue would want some sort of proof that we have you."  
  
He reached down to his belt and slid a dagger out. He ran the point gently along her neck, and Nyah held her breath, preparing for pain. He ran it along the chain and wrapped it around the blade. With a quick jerk, he popped the clasp, and the locket hung on the dagger, twisting and turning.  
  
"There now. That should be adequate enough."  
  
"Give it back!" Nyah yelled, wrenching her arms painfully as she struggled to loosen the man's grasp on her arms.  
  
Rikasa ignored her. He tucked it a letter address to George inside a small drawstring bag. He turned to one of the men who stood ready in travel gear. "Take this to Corus in Tortall immediately." He handed the bag to the man who promptly turned and headed towards one of the longboats on the side of the ship.  
  
Nyah glowered at him before spitting in his face. He wiped it off with his hand. "Cute," he said quietly.  
  
"Leave her alone, ya gods damned bastard," Cat spoke up. "What the hell do ya want, asshole?"  
  
"Now, now my dear," he said, as if he were speaking to a two year old. "Language. After all, you don't want to set a bad example for your troops, do you?"  
  
Cat glared at him. "What the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?" she asked, her voice low.  
  
"Your troops, my dear." He motioned and the ten or so men on his right side moved to reveal about twenty Chihopa girls and boys in chains, sitting helplessly against the side of the ship. They were crying quietly and ranged in age from twelve to two. The looked at Cat and Nyah, their eyes pleading. "After the next full moon," Rikasa continued, "I'll need someone who will understand their talents to train them and lead them."  
  
Cat looked from the scared children to the man. "Ya sick bastard!" she yelled, lunging for him. However, the men were quicker and grabbed her and Nyah's arms, twisting them behind their backs.  
  
Rikasa walked up to the secured girl, and gently ran a hand over her cheek. She flinched at his touch. "Don't worry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You'll soon agree with me."  
  
Then he took a step back an addressed his men. "It seems that our secret weapon has forgotten the punishment for breach of respectful conduct. Loch!"  
  
A large beefy man approached his leader and bowed on one knee. "Yes, my Lord?" he inquired.  
  
"Loch, take Miss ShadowCat down to the brig and remind her how we deal with defiance."  
  
Loch smiled as he stood and cracked his knuckles. "With pleasure, my Lord."  
  
He and another man grabbed a surprised Cat. "Lemme go ya asses! Lemme go!" They ignored her cries and dragged her to the other side of the ship.  
  
"Cat!" Nyah screamed. She struggled hard to break free of the arm lock but was held tight.  
  
Rikasa turned back to his crew. "Put this one back in the cell."  
  
The two men who held the struggling Nyah turned her around and pushed her back into the hole of the cell. She fell the twenty feet and only a lucky twist let her land the correct way, without breaking any bones. She looked up and yelled Scanran curses at the men, but was only answered with the clang of the heavy metal grill as it was placed it its spot.  
  
That night, Nyah couldn't sleep due to the loud sounds of the whip cracking followed by a scream. She covered her ears with her hands, but nothing helped. She couldn't stand it. After three or four hours, she finally fell to the ground, crying bitterly. "She's only thirteen," she kept whispering. "She's only thirteen…" 


	13. From Bad to Worse

Chapter 13 

            Early the next morning, a bloody, beaten, and dazed Cat was tossed back through the hole above.  She hit the ground with an audible _thud_, her blood rapidly turning the dusty, old straw a rusty red.  She would've cried out, but it hurt too much to even think about moving her mouth, let alone the rest of her body.  She felt like it had been impaled on a hundred swords.  Instead, she moaned quietly and rolled over on her side.  There was a rustle of straw, and suddenly Nyah was by her side. 

            The older girl could barely see Cat, so dark was the cell.  She closed her eyes and conjured a ball of emerald light in her palm, sending it into the pole that they had been tied to the other day.  The cell was illuminated in a soft green glow, and Cat's body was finally visible.  

            "Oh, Great Merciful Mother," Nyah breathed.  

            Cat's shirt was shredded in the back; the old whip scars were covered with deep, painful gashes that dripped crimson blood.  Her face was covered in black, blue, and purple bruises.  One eye was so swollen that it was impossible to see out.  Cat shifted with a slight moan, and the shredded back of her shirt fell off her side, revealing hand-sized bruises on her stomach that went up and under her breast band, about the only article of clothing that was still fully intact.

            Nyah brushed the blood soaked hair out of the girl's face, and felt tears roll down her cheeks as she did so.  She tried to think of something to encourage the girl, something to comfort her, but nothing came to mind.  What could she possible say to a thirteen-year-old who had been beaten, tortured, and most likely raped?  

Blood from cuts on Cat's face trickled down and over her closed eyes, forehead, nose, and mouth like little red rivers.  For one of the first times in her life, Nyah didn't know what to do.  She had no clue.  Feeling numb, she finger-combed the girl's hair and cursed Rikasa and the Rebels in Common and Scanran languages.  "The sick bastards," she whispered furiously.  "Gods damned, sick bastards!  I hope they burn in hell, the sons of bitches!"

"Ya tellin' me," Cat's voice said softly.  "I should've beaten the tar outta 'em," she whispered angrily.  

Nyah couldn't help but smile through her tears.  Though the girl was beaten to a pulp, her spirit was unbroken.  "Hey, Cat," she said gently, brushing the hair from her own face.  

Cat tried to smile, but a cut on her lip split open farther as she did, and she grimaced instead.  "They—they tried ta get me ta tell 'em where—" She stopped for a moment, spitting out the blood that had filled up her mouth from the lip cut.  "—where the Bandit Court was.  They want revenge.  They—" She was interrupted by a sudden, violent cough that wracked her entire body, making her shudder in pain.

"Shhh," Nyah told her as the cough subsided.  "No more talking, Cat.  We can talk later.  Once we get out of this, we can talk forever."  However, deep in her heart, she wondered if they would get out of this.

An hour later, ShadowCat could still feel the blood running down her back, and knew that she couldn't last much longer.  In the back of her mind, a logical calm voice was telling her that if she didn't stop the bleeding soon, she would die.  She hadn't moved from the position she had fallen in; she couldn't. Her mind was a jumble of different thoughts. Why didn't she betray the Bandits?  It wasn't like they had ever done her any favors.  _I didn't want to give Rikasa the satisfaction, _she thought bitterly. _Anything he wants, I won't give._

                How long had they been here?  Two, three days maybe?  She hadn't eaten or drank anything since they had been kidnapped.  _Well,_ she thought grimly, _if I don't die of blood loss, there's always dehydration.  _Another long, bone-shaking cough erupted from her lungs.  She cringed inwardly.  What was making her cough so horribly?  Her head throbbed painfully, and her throat was dry as a bone. _Drier, I'll bet._

What did Rikasa mean by, "her troops"?  In her mind, she saw the little children, chained and huddled against the side of the ship.  They were dirty and crying.  She wondered vaguely if she had ever been that young and scared.  Was she ever dirty and crying like they were?  Probably not.  Rikasa had hit her when she cried.  If he turned them into what she was... she closed her eyes at the thought.  She didn't want anyone else to have to go through the pain she did.  

            What about the Rogue?  Would they come to rescue Nyah?  She had no right to hope they would rescue her, of course.  She had stabbed their king, for Mithros' sake.  Still, maybe she could persuade them to take the kids, at least.  No one, _no one_ deserved to go through the same ordeal she had been through in her life, especially not a bunch of innocent children.  

            Finally, what about Nyah's father?  They had come all this way, working so hard for so long, and it was all for naught.  If he had been enslaved by the Chihopa, chances were he was dead and rotting in some field out in the middle of nowhere, his body trampled by the black horses of the Rebels.  Not a pretty picture.  And if he was dead, then a month of hard work and disappointment was for nothing.  She had risked her life for a man she didn't know, and now, she'd die before she'd even had a chance to know what it felt like to be really free.

            She sighed, the air filling her aching lungs.  The full moon was in two weeks.  If Rikasa was going to cast the spell, he'd have to do it then.  The Rogue had two weeks.  And if he didn't make it before then…well, Cat didn't even want to think about that possibility.

*            *            *

George sat in his room, staring at the fire in the hearth for the fifth time in a row.  It was the middle of the night, and he knew that if he were smart at all, he should get some sleep.  However, every time he shut his eyes, the same dream he had had five nights ago popped back into his head, haunting his sleep.  There were dark circles under his eyes, grown darker and more evident as the days had gone by, and he had become more and more distant with his court.

Some time around the third day, he had been sitting quietly at his usual table in the noisy, bustling common room of the Dancing Dove, when Rispah came over and sat down next to him.  They sat in silence for a few moments.  George broke first.  "I know what you're going to say," he said, not looking at her.

"That you're bein' an idiot, worryin' about her like this?" Rispah suggested.

George sighed. "You never were tactful, were you?" he asked his cousin.

Rispah gave him a look out of the corner of her eye.  "I don't need to be tactful.  You know you're bein' a dolt."

"Thanks," he said sarcastically.  He looked at his cousin, noticing how her hazel eyes were the same as his own.  

Then it was Rispah's turn to sigh.  "George, she's seventeen.  She's grown up; she's not a little girl anymore.  She can make her own decisions."

"I know that," George replied, "but—"

"'But' nothin', George," Rispah interrupted.  "She'll be back.  You and I both know it.  She's safe, especially with that Cat girl you said she was with."

George's hand rubbed his left thigh under the table.  The scar that ShadowCat had given him was a painful reminder that the girl could defend herself.  And Nyah… he had never seen anyone as talented with the bow as her.  And she was the only girl he knew that carried Yamani throwing stars.  But if the odds were five against one…

"Not to mention the fact that your scarin' Eric half to death," Rispah continued.  "I've never seen that boy so depressed."

George and Eric hadn't talked to each other about their joint dream since that first morning, and they certainly hadn't told anyone else.  Not many people in the Rogue believed in prophetic dreams.  "He really loves her," George commented, resting his head in one hand. 

"Yeah."  Rispah gave a small smile.  "They make a cute couple.  Nell and I were bettin' on how long it would take those two to finally get together."

George smiled in spite of himself.  Eric was a good friend and a good man. The King of Thieves knew that if anyone deserved him, it was Nyah.  He had seen how close they were a month ago, back in Kahanlanda.  And those earbobs Eric had bought the girl for Midwinter had cost him three months of stealing goods to pay back the debt.   

And Nyah… Mithros, did she love that boy.  George had never seen Nyah as free and unguarded as she was with Eric.  She and Eric had sat up late at night, scribbling away in a small, blank book, no bigger than her palm.  George had seen the two of them passing it under the table, hiding it quickly.  He said nothing at the time, laughing inwardly at the two lovebirds.  

He knew that Nyah and Eric had slept together at the safe house, and there were many times his slight Gift woke him in the night. He heard the quiet footsteps of stocking feet on the hall floorboards, and hushed voices as one beckoned the other into his or her room.  Sometimes they would leave the Dancing Dove and go out into the city. He didn't have to guess to know what went on during these late-night excursions; the fact that both of them slept through most of the morning was proof enough.

However, now, things were different.  He knew that Eric was more troubled than he at the thought of Nyah not returning home.  Let Rispah and the rest of the Rogue think what they would; they didn't have the same dream haunting them night after night.  He could still hear female screams echoing in his mind, the thunder of hooves and the loud war cries of the Scanran men.

He placed his head in his hands, letting his eyes close in exasperation.  If she'd just come home…

            It had been two days since he and Rispah had had that conversation, and now as he sat in his room watching the flames flicker, casting shadows on the wall, it repeated itself in his mind.   _This is stupid, _he thought disgustedly.  _Nyah is _fine.  _So I had a bad dream; nothing's wrong.  Get a hold of yourself, George._

Although his mind was telling him these things, he was having a hard time believing himself.  He was just about to try going back to bed when his window shattered.  He jumped up quicker than lightning, grabbing the knife that lay on his bedside table.  He stood in a fighter's stance, looking around the dim room cautiously.  There was no one else there.  Still being careful, he slowly went to the window and stepped to the far side, avoiding the broken glass.  He leaned around the frame, ever so slightly, incase the assassin was still hiding in the shadows.  

            He could see nothing.  He felt with his Gift for a human presence, and there was none. He sighed and placed the blade back onto the table.  Turning around, he stopped suddenly.  An arrow was sticking out of the wall, firmly embedded in the wood.  Dangling from the shaft was a small leather drawstring bag.  He walked over slowly, his mind racing.

            He untied the back from the shaft, and held it at an arm's length.  It looked ordinary, but George wasn't stupid.  He had many enemies in the city; more than one of them would like it if he were poisoned and out of the way.  He walked over to the fire, and slowly opened it, inch by inch.  Nothing happened.  He looked inside and saw two things:  a glint of gold and a folded piece of paper with his name on it in careful fine hand.

            He pulled out the letter and opened it.  The same fine script was on the inside.  He held it closer to the light to read.

_To George Cooper, King of Thieves, Master of the Court of the Rogue in Corus, Tortall:_

_            I hope this letter finds you in good health, for you will surely need it in the coming days.  I won't bother with formalities; I'm sure that you're rather curious as to why I am writing you._

_            I have something—someone—that I believe is very valuable to you and your Court.  Nyah, Princess of the Rogue, I believe is her proper title?  She sits in our brig now, but her life is in your hands.  How much do you think is a reasonable price for the safe return of the girl?  One hundred, one hundred fifty gold nobles, would you say?  I believe one hundred fifty would be quite adequate.  I'm sure that in your line of work, that sum should come by easily._

_            A word to the wise though, sir.  In two weeks, it won't matter whether or not I receive the money.  My plan will already have been set in motion, and I will have no more need of the princess.  I could kill her, of course, but there is also the possibility of adding her to the number of Chihopa slaves on my ship.  With her charming looks, I'm sure the men on my ship would be more than happy to find _something_ to do with her.  They are quite lonely with out any women on board.  Or there is always the possibility of the Carthaki slave trade, or the civil wars taking place in Sarain.  _

            Once you have acquired the sum, go to the coast of Scanra, along the Emerald Ocean, about fifty miles northwest of Fief Mindelan, over the Grimhold mountains.  I will have one of my people wait each evening for four hour before the sun sets.  However, after two weeks, your time will be up, and Princess Nyah will me mine.  

            I'm sure you'll cooperate, Master Cooper.  After all, is any price too great to save your dear Princess Nyah's life?  

Two weeks, sir.  You have two weeks.

                                                Rikasa, Lord of the Rebel Bandits, the True Lord of Scanra

            George swallowed, his mouth dry.  "He's bluffing," he thought aloud.  "He has to be bluffing."  He remembered the second object in the small bag, and reached a trembling hand into it.  His fingers clutched something cool and metal, and he pulled it out gently.  He immediately recognized the locket he had given Nyah for Midwinter.  She never takes it off, he thought in horror.  Suddenly the dream, the letter, and the locket all clicked together in his head.  

            As the realization dawned on him, he closed his eyes in dismay.  Clutching the necklace tightly in his fist, he felt a tear roll down his cheek and thought in despair, Now what?

*          *            *

            The day passed slowly, and Cat never did move from the spot where she fell.  Sometime around noon, Nyah checked on her and found that she was asleep.  Asleep or unconscious?  Nyah wondered.  She had taken the remains of the girl's tattered shirt and wrapped it around her back to stop the bleeding, but she wondered if it was helping.  Or was it too late to be of any help?  

            Night passed, and Nyah realized that this was their fourth day on the ship; maybe the fifth, since she wasn't how long they had been knocked out when they first arrived.  They hadn't had food or water since they were kidnapped, and if Nyah's throat was dry, she could only imagine how Cat must feel.

Every once in a while, another bone-shaking cough would erupt from Cat, making her body look as though it was seizing terribly.  She was pale and wan looking, as if someone was slowly draining her blood.  Her lips were dry and cracked, and she still hadn't woken as the sun rose.  Nyah gingerly felt the girl's pulse; it was too slow to be normal.  If she didn't get food and water soon…

Around noon, Nyah heard scuffling and shouts from above.  There was the clank of keys against metal that meant the gate was being opened.  There was more yelling, and a timid response as a rope was dropped down the hole.  Someone slid down over the edge and climbed slowly down, hand over hand.  He dropped when he was three feet away from the ground and looked at the prisoners.

Without thinking, Nyah slid around in front of the unconscious Cat attempting to protect her from the man.  She glared at him furiously.  "What do you want?" 

The man said nothing, only took a large pack from his back and placed it on the floor.  He opened it, and began rummaging inside.  He pulled out a two large canteens and set them on the side.  Reaching back in produced a loaf of bread and a handful of dried meat strips.  Nyah's mouth dropped open in wonder.  He also pulled out a roll of bandages and a bottle of ointment.  

"Why… what…" the girl asked breathlessly, her eyes wide.

" The Master sent me down here to feed you and to make sure the girl receives treatment," he said quietly, not looking up.  

Nyah nodded, too dumbfounded to say anything.  The man pushed the food and water at her, and she gathered them in her arms.  She took the lid off of one of the canteens and heard the sweet sound of fresh water inside.  Turning her back to him, she gently reached under the girl's shoulders and propped her up. Cat groaned and opened her eyes a bit; she opened her mouth to talk, but Nyah smiled and shook her head.  "You never shut up, do you?  Here.  Water."  

She fumbled to hold the canteen to the girl's lips and hold her up at the same time.  Suddenly, she felt a rough, calloused hand touch her forearm, and she looked up.  The man was on the other side of Cat, helping to support her.  Nyah nodded her thanks and carefully poured some of the precious water down Cat's throat.  She choked on it for a minute, then began to gulp it down.  

As Cat drank, Nyah studied the man out of the corner of her eye.  He looked vaguely familiar. He appeared old, but he moved with the dexterity of someone fifteen years younger.  His gray and beard were long and scraggly, but his hands were gentle and comforting.  He looked so familiar…

When Cat was through, she sighed and went limp in their arms.  Nyah looked at her nervously.  "Will she be all right?" she asked the man.

He checked her pulse and watched her chest rise and fall for a few moments, making sure her breathing was regular.  "Yes," he said slowly, his eyes never leaving the beaten girl.  "She's just exhausted.  You did the right thing, stopping the bleeding.  She'll be in pain for a time; just let her sleep."  

Relieved, Nyah laid the girl gently back down on the straw.  There was half of the canteen left, and Nyah drank a few mouthfuls, before replacing the lid.  She ripped a chunk of bread off the loaf and tried to concentrate on making it last a long time.  She didn't know how long it would be till they got more food or water, or if they even would.                                     

To distract herself, she watched the man as he rolled Cat on her side and unwrapped the shirt from her back.  A look a pity crossed his face as he saw what the whip had done and where the bruises led.  He took some of the water from the canteen and poured it over the rag of a shirt.  Tenderly he washed the dried blood and dirt off of Cat's back.  Then he poured a good amount of the ointment into his hand and gently rubbed it into her back.  Cat jerked in her sleep, feeling the bite of the medicine as it cleaned her cuts.  

"Shhh," the man whispered calmly.  "It's all right, there's a good girl."  He motioned for Nyah to hold Cat up as he wrapped the bandages around her back and stomach.  When he was done, he gathered his now empty pack and slung it on his back.  Without another word, he stood and walked back to the rope. 

"Wait!" Nyah cried.  "Thank you," she said softly.

He stopped and looked at her.  "Your welcome.  Keep her safe, Princess."  For the first time, he made eye contact with her.  She gasped and her eyes grew wide. He turned and climbed back up the roped and over the side.  As the grill was placed back over the top, Nyah thought numbly,  His eyes.  They're…they're mine.  

And suddenly, she understood why she felt that she knew that man.  Why she recognized the hair and beard.  She knew that comforting voice and those gentle hands that carefully tended ShadowCat, a girl who couldn't—wouldn't—be tamed by anyone.  Most of all, she knew those eyes.  There was only one other person on earth who had her eyes.

"That—that was my…father."


	14. Betrayal

Author's Note:  Yes ladies and gentlemen, the guilt finally got to me.  I am SO sorry that this took so long!  You see, I just began my first year at high school, and I've been trying desperately to keep up with the workload.  Then, when I finally did finish the chapter, it just felt like it was missing something.  I sat around for a week, trying to think of what element I was missing, until it hit me like a ton of bricks.  So, I rewrote the entire thing.  Anyway, it's here now, and that's all that matters right?  Please read, review, and recommend!  Thanks!

_Rogue ; )_

Chapter 14

            A pair of hands roughly shook Eric, waking him out of a deep sleep.  He moaned and rolled over, glaring sleepily at the intruder.  "What?" he asked groggily.  

            When he cracked open an eyelid, he saw George already lighting a candle.  

            "Majesty, what's goin' on?" he asked.  "It's three in the morning, and I've got loyalty, but now is not the best time of day to be askin' for it."

            However, when he saw George's face, he knew now was not the time to be sarcastic.  "Get up," George said stonily.  Eric got up.  "Read this."  He tossed a letter onto the bedside table next to the flickering candle.  

            Eyeing his leader curiously, Eric picked up the letter and squinted to read the fancy handwriting.  A moment later, his expression became one of puzzlement to one of shock.  "They're bluffing, right?" he asked George.  

            "They sent her locket along with it, and you know she never takes that off, not willingly," George replied.  

            "That bastard," Eric murmured, glaring at the signature.  "I swear by the gods if he touches one hair on her head…"

            "Even if he doesn't, I'm still gonna kill him," George said icily.

            "Well, what are we gonna do?" Eric asked, trying hard to keep the fury out of his voice.  "There's no way we can pay that amount, not in the time they're giving us."

            "We've got to find her," George said, rage lacing every word as they flew out of his mouth.  "We've got to find her and get her our of there.  We'll take a few men, and with luck, we can make it there with five days of hard riding."

            Eric looked up at George and noticed the cold, killer instinct behind those hazel eyes.  His leader's arms were crossed over his chest, and his jaw was set determinedly.  For a moment, he actually felt a bit of pity for this Rikasa.  If he encountered George now, he would be a dead man.

            _Good,_ he thought.

*          *          *

            That night, Nyah slept comfortably for the first time since their arrival on the ship four days ago.  She had found her father, even if it was in a twisted, roundabout way.  She wasn't sure how exactly she planned on telling him yet, but just knowing that he was there was enough for now.  Inside a bubble of hope began to build inside of her.  

Cat's bone-shaking cough had stopped, and the look of pain had dropped from her face.  She looked peaceful.  Well, as peaceful as a bruised and cut face could look anyway.  

            Nyah smiled.  Her father had done good work.  _Just like he used to when I was little,_ she thought happily.  

            Her growling stomach interrupted her thoughts.  She ripped off a hunk of stale bread and a piece of jerky and chewed quietly, thinking about the next step to take, but it was hard to grasp one thought.  They tumbled about in her head like dry leaves in a strong wind.  It was obvious that they couldn't escape the ship by themselves.  She had no idea how many crewmembers there were.  More than just the two of them could fight off, that was for sure.  And then there was Rikasa, who was obviously an extremely powerful mage.  He could probably kill the both of them just by uttering a few words if he wanted to.  

            Two young women against a ship's crew and its mage captain.  Oh, these were good odds. 

            There was always the hope that the Rogue would come to rescue her, but the chance that they would get here before two weeks were up was slim.  And how would they be able to rescue all the Chihopa people, especially the children?  Rikasa wanted to turn them into super killing machines like Cat.  The only reason ShadowCat didn't have the blood so many people on her hands was because she had gotten out of Rikasa's clutches before it was too late. 

            She sighed and took a swig from the near-empty first canteen.  As she stood up to walk around and stretch her legs, she said a quick prayer to the Thief, Kiloa, and the Goddess, asking for help this one time. 

*          *          *

Eric splashed his face with the cold river water.  He and the rest of the small company were on one of the few short breaks that George allowed.   The only reason they were stopping was because the horses couldn't go on at a run for hour after hour.  He had a feeling that the horses were the _only_ reason George allowed a stop at all; they couldn't go like that without water every once in awhile.  Although he wanted to find Nyah as bad as his leader, he couldn't help but feel a little grateful for the break as he washed the sweat from his face.  

The past two days were still a blur to him.  After George had woken him with the disturbing news, he had mostly felt numb.  They had stayed in his room until sunrise, preparing a plan and thinking about whom to take with them.  When the rest of the Rogue awoke and went down to the common room for breakfast, they two of them were already waiting for them.  As soon as George stood, the entire Rogue looked at their king, wondering what was going on.  

The reaction was tremendous.  The women, too tough to weep openly, stared in shock at first; then they began to yell.  The men shouted in outrage.  The giant Leon swore loudly, and Marek slammed his fist down on the table so hard, one of the glasses fell over and shattered on the floor.  

Rispah, Queen of the Ladies as always, was the first to recover her wits.  "Quiet!" she yelled above the Rogue, her voice silencing everyone in an instant.  She walked up to stand next to her cousin.  "What do we do, Majesty?" she asked, staring into his eyes.  

"We get her back," George said simply.  "I'm taking a group of men with me.  Eric, Marek, Ercole, Leon," he said, naming his top four, "'Fingers, Orem, Shem, and—" 

"Me," Rispah interrupted.  

"No, Rispah," George said immediately.  "This is too dangerous.  I couldn't risk you getting hurt."

"And what, you can risk these men?  You used to tell me that I couldn't do things with you when we were children.  I didn't listen then, and you may be my king, but there are some commands that I will break."

"Rispah—"

"I'm going, Majesty."  Rispah crossed her arms over her chest, looking into his eyes with a cool hazel glare.

If it had been anyone else, George would've hacked off an ear just for being insubordinate in front of his entire Court.  But this was Rispah, his cousin.  They had grown up together, and he couldn't very well ignore that.  "Fine," he said grudgingly.  "But if anything happens to you—"

"Relax, cousin.  I've known how to defend myself as long as you have."

Quickly, three men were appointed to take command of the Court while George was gone, and those remaining of the Rogue were dismissed.  The eight members of the Rogue who were going with their leader were sent to pack light and be ready.  They were leaving as soon as the sun set that night.  

That had been two days ago, though it seemed like an eternity to Eric.  As he gulped down water, his thoughts drifted to Nyah.  Gods, he missed that girl.  He remembered the first time she had ever come to the Rogue, a fifteen-year-old girl with a tough attitude and more swear words than anyone else he had known.  He was the same age as her then.

The first night he ever saw her was when he, George, Marek, and Leon all went to the Palace to catch the thief who had been getting so many of their men put in the dungeon.  She had put up a fight like you wouldn't believe, until George finally hit her in the shoulder.  She went tumbling off that beam, and cracked her head hard on the wall.  He remembered thinking that there was no way she was going to survive.

She proved him wrong though.  She proved everyone wrong, and within a month, she was on her feet again.  When she denied George's offer to join the Rogue, Eric thought she was crazy.  He practically had to beg to get into it, and she was turning down an _offer_.  

Most of all, he remembered the first time he knew he was in love with her.  It was right after she ran off, afraid she was putting the Rogue and George in danger.  When she had heard that George had been captured, she came back again, even though many of the Rogue blamed her for what happened to begin with.  It was Nyah who organized the rescue attempt, who got George out of the dungeon, and Nyah who sacrificed herself when it was either her king's life or her own. 

The first time he knew he was in love with her was at her execution.  He was standing in the crowd alongside the rest of the Rogue, waiting for George's signal.  He watched as someone he didn't know walked defiantly up the scaffolding's steps. She was pale, and her blond hair was matted with blood and sticking out everywhere.  Her clothes were torn, and fresh wounds marked her face, arms, and back.  Her arms were tied behind her back; her feet were shackled together, yet she showed no sign of shame.  She climbed those steps as gracefully as Queen Lianne herself.  

He had seen her before, when she was in a pretty little dress, or tight, form fitting thieving clothes with her hair swept back into a low horsetail, or falling gently around her face in soft blonde waves.  He knew her laugh, her smile, her playful shove.  But on that day, when he saw her facing death, he knew she was rival to the Goddess herself.  Gone was the beautiful countenance that he was so used to seeing, replaced by a scowl and hard, cold emerald eyes.  When a guard tried to force her to stand on the stool, she shook him off and serenely got on by herself.  It was her pride and her courage that made him fall in love with her that day, not her beauty.

When they slid the noose around her neck, every one of his muscles tensed up.  He wanted to jump up onto that platform, rip the noose off, and personally kill every single one of the dignitaries and guards with his bare hands.  When the first beat of the drum hit, he took a small step forward and felt Leon's firm grip on his forearm.  Glancing at the man's eyes from under his hood, he shook his head ever so slightly.  _Not yet_, he seemed to say.  The drum struck a second time, and Eric watched helplessly as Nyah's hair swayed in the breeze. Her head was still held high, though a tear rolled down her cheek.  

When the final drum beat sounded and the stool was kicked out, he watched in horror as Nyah kicked her feet ineffectually.  It was only for maybe a second at the most, but it seemed like the longest moment of his entire life.  Then, Leon's perfect shot struck the rope, cutting her loose and Eric was free to attack.

He fought blindly, wounding and killing as many as he could.  Anger and rage seethed inside him.  His daggers flew from left to right, slashing whomever they reached. When George gave the signal to leave, Marek had to literally drag Eric away from the fighting.  The older man through the boy onto his horse then jumped on behind him and rode off after the rest of the Rogue. 

Marek scolded him later about not following orders, but Eric was deaf to the reprimand.  Nyah was safe and that was all that mattered.  That was the first time he knew he was in love with her, when he had almost lost her.

He tried to deny it at first.  He was so sure that Nyah wasn't interested; they had always been friends but nothing more than that.  He went with other women for two or three years, just trying to distract himself, but every time he looked at the girl he was with, he saw Nyah.  Finally, he gave into the fact that he was head over heels for that girl, and on Midwinter, he let her know.  _And up until now, life has been just about perfect,_ he thought with a smile.  He held her locket tightly in his hand.  George had given it to him just before they left, for "safekeeping", but he knew that his leader understood just how badly this was hurting him.  The locket gave him some comfort, and ran a finger over it gently.

"Let's move out!" George's voice pierced his thoughts.  Eric took another quick gulp of water and placed the locket around his neck, tucking it under his shirt.  As he remounted his horse, Leon pulled up next to him and gave a knowing smile.  Eric nodded, and faced the front, and kicked his horse into a gallop, following the rest of the small band of the Rogue. 

*          *          *

Two more days passed, and Nyah's father didn't come down.  Honestly, she didn't blame him.  If she were the slave of Rikasa's, the last thing she would want to do was cross him.  

Occasionally, Cat would wake up and ask for a drink of water, but mostly she slept.  Nyah changes her bandages each day and marveled at the progress the obviously magicked cream made on the girl.  The gashes had scabbed over, and some of the minor cuts were actually already becoming nearly invisible scars.  The coughing and shortness of breath had stopped, and Nyah was grateful for that.  

On the morning of the sixth day, Nyah woke to the sound of small grunts and curses.  Rolling over, she glanced up and saw a pale but triumphant looking Cat leaning against the wall.  She had ripped off some bread and held the stick of jerky in the other hand, eating like a madwoman. 

Nyah sat up and brushed her brown hair out of her eyes.  "I don't believe you," Nyah said disapprovingly, though her eyes gave glittered with happiness.  "Would it kill you to stay down and let your body recover?"

            "Probably.  You hungry?"  She handed Nyah the last hunk of stale bread.  In between mouthfuls, she asked, "So why are ya so quiet?  Usually, ya don' shut up."

            Nyah smiled gently, staring at her bread.  "I found my father," she said softly.

            Cat choked on her mouthful of food.  "_What?_" she asked, eyes wide.

            "The old man, the slave that came down while you were sick," Nyah said, the words leaving her mouth in a rush.  "He was helping you, and I remember him doing the same to me when I was little.  The way he spoke to you, the way he touched you, the way he acted was exactly the way I remember him.  And right before he left, he looked straight into my eyes, and do you know what?" She went on, not waiting for a response.  "They were _mine_, Cat. His eyes were mine, and I've never met someone with eyes exactly like mine."  

            Cat looked at Nyah and saw the excitement on her face.  If he had her eyes, the there was no mistaking it.  Eyes as bright and vibrant as Nyah's were about as rare as ShadowCat's own gold eyes. 

            "What's the matter?" Nyah asked Cat.  "You feeling alright?  You look pale," she told the girl worriedly.  

            "I'm fine," Cat said.  "It's jus' that…"

            "What?"

            "This isn' good, Princess."

            "What do you mean?" Nyah asked in bewilderment.  "Cat, we found my father.  That's what we came to do, and we found him.  Granted it wasn't exactly the way we wanted to, but—"

            "No, you don' understand, Princess," Cat interrupted, her voice rising slightly.  "If Rikasa finds out that he's yer father—and he _will_ find out—he's gonna kill ya both.  No question."

            "You don't know that for sure," Nyah insisted, but then stopped at Cat's piercing gold glare.

            "Yes, I do," Cat snapped.  "I've known him longer than ya have, Nyah.  Don' be tellin' me what I do and don' know."

            Nyah scowled at the girl.  Days inside the cell had made her restless, and her temper was shorter than usual.  "Well, Cat you don't know everything.  There's a lot of life you haven't experienced yet, so—"

"Princess, if I wanted a lecture, I woulda asked for one!" Cat yelled, gold eyes flashing dangerously.  "He—Will—Kill—Ya—Both," she said, saying each word slowly and distinctly.  "Get it through ya royal head."

Nyah glared at the girl, but didn't respond.  They sat silently for a few moments, fuming at each other.

            After a few minutes, Cat said quietly, "Ya know I never do anythin' without a reason, right?"

            Nyah looked at Cat curiously, but she didn't say anything more, and Nyah let it be.

            The next day a rope was dropped down the shaft and someone yelled down to start climbing.  Nyah grabbed the rope and hauled herself up, followed closely by Cat.  When the reached the deck, they were immediately grabbed by men and held with their arms behind their backs.  Rikasa stood before them, smiling pleasantly as if they had just stopped by for a chat.  "Hello, my dears," he said politely.  Nyah scowled at him, but his attention wasn't focused on her. 

            "My dear ShadowCat," he said, locking his eyes on the girl's, "it has been a week.  Have you had a chance to think about my little proposition?"

            Nyah looked at the girl, expecting a sharp retort, but what she saw made her stomach wrench.  Cat looked directly at Rikasa and said, "I have."

            "And?" the man asked.

            "I've decided ta command ya army," she said calmly.  The men immediately released her and Nyah watched, horrified, as she walked over to Rikasa.

            "Cat! What are you doing?" Nyah yelled.

            The girl looked at her evenly, as if she had asked a simple question.  "What does it look like I'm doin'?  I'm stayin' with the side that's gonna win this.  When His Highness comes ta power, it will be me who got him there."  She looked up at Rikasa fondly, and he smiled as if she were his own daughter.  She looked back at Nyah.  "I suggest ya do the same."

            "Yes, Your Highness," Rikasa interjected.  "Come, join us, and be part of something so much bigger than you're petty little Rogue."

            Nyah glared at the both of them.  "No!" she yelled.  "Unlike that bitch,"—she nodded to Cat—"I don't betray the ones I swear to!"

            Rikasa smiled.  "Very well then.  Your king has one week.  Do you think he can make it in time?  Do you really think he can save you from an inevitable fate?"  

            Before Nyah could respond, he snapped his fingers and she was turned around and shoved down the hole, back into the blackness.  

            As the grill clanged back into place and the lock snapped shut and magically sealed, Rikasa offered his arm to ShadowCat.  "Come, my dear," he said formally.  "Let's find you more comfortable quarters."

            Nyah hit the ground hard.  When she caught he breath, she jumped up and kicked the wall hard, fury numbing the pain.  She punched it over and over again, till her knuckles became a sliced and bloody mess.  She screamed her fury, calling Cat everything that came to mind.  "That bitch!" she yelled, pounding the wall with her hands.  "That two-timing, low life, scum of the earth bitch!  She set me up!  She knew all along what was going to happen!  How could I be so _stupid_ as to believe her?"  She screamed again, and pounded the wall, leaving behind spots of blood each time.   

            When she could no longer clench her hands into fists, she broke down.  She crumpled to the ground, crying.  She had never been one to admit defeat, ever, but this was as close as she had ever come.  She was alone, betrayed by a girl he thought was her friend.  The Rogue had no idea what they were up against, and to top it all off, her father would surely die; now that Cat had revealed her true self.  

            She had no idea how long she sat there, when she heard the familiar sound of the grating being lifted and, once again a rope was dropped down.  _If they want me,_ Nyah thought bitterly, _they'll have to figure out how haul me up._

            However, no one yelled down for her to start climbing; instead, someone slid down the rope.

            "What the hell do you want?" Nyah growled, crossing her arms over her chest.

            The man dropped and Nyah saw that it was the old slave.  "It's only me, miss," her father said.

            "Oh!" Nyah murmured, embarrassed.  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

            "It's all right," he said, smiling gently.  "I understand."

            Nyah nodded, to nervous to say anything.  _ How exactly are you supposed to tell someone that you're his long lost daughter?  'Hello, I'm Nyah, and by the way, I'm your daughter,'?_

            He slung his pack off his shoulder and took out a canteen and loaf of bread.  "This has to last you the week," he warned as he handed them over.  "Use them sparingly."

            "Thanks," Nyah said as she reached out for the necessities, but they were pulled away from her quickly. 

            "Gods!" the slave breathed, putting the things down immediately and grasping her hands.  "What happened?"

            Nyah blushed and yanked her hands away.  "I just…got a little carried away," she muttered as she gestured to the bloodstained wall.  

            He took her bloody hands, more gently this time, and examined them carefully.  Then, he pulled out his medicine and bandages from his pack and tenderly began to wrap her hands. 

            "Do you just carry that stuff around?" Nyah asked as she watched him work.

            He smiled.  "I'm the only one on board with medical knowledge.  They know the basics, like how to bandage things of course, but the slaves all run to me whenever they're injured.  You see," he said, looking up at her, "the Master doesn't care if we are alive or dead, so if he whips one of us, he doesn't bother to give us bandages or medicine for it.  I steal this from the storage when I can.  The majority of whipped slaves bleed to death," he said quietly.

            Nyah shuddered.  "I'm sorry," she whispered.  "But if you are supposed do this kind of thing, why did you help…that girl I was with?"  She was afraid if she said "Cat", she might start crying again.

            "Master ordered me to.  He gave me the bandages and food and told me to make sure she lives.  He needs her to head his _troops_."  He spat out the last word with contempt.  "Turning children into monsters," he muttered.  "How sick can one man be?"  Nyah nodded.  

            "I know a few of the children," he said quietly.  "There's one little girl who was like a little ray of sunshine at the camp.  He wants to change her in a week.  She reminds me so much of my own daughter…"

            Nyah swallowed.  This was her chance.  "You—you have a daughter?" she asked slowly.

            "I had one.  She died though, when she was six years old."

            "Her name was Nyah," the young woman whispered.  It was a statement, not a question.

            He looked up from packing his sack in surprise.  "Why, yes," he said.  "That's right.  But how did you know?"

            "It's me," Nyah whispered, looking into his eyes.  "It's me, Father."

            Immediately, he stood up.  "How dare you torture an old man this way?" he growled.  "I'm leaving now." He turned and walked back over to the rope. 

            "Wait!" Nyah begged.  "I was born in the Chihopa tribe!  My mother died giving birth to me!  You saved from being sacrificed to Calami, and we moved to the country!  You taught me how to ride, how to shoot, how to fight!"  

Seeing that he wasn't stopping, tears began rolling down her cheeks.  "You bought me a horse when I was six!" she yelled at his back, her voice cracking with emotion.  "You told me a story about my mother every night before I went to sleep!  I fell out of a tree when I was five and broke my wrist; when it stormed at night I used to climb in bed with you because I was scared, and you'd tell me—" 

"—I'd tell you not to be afraid, that it was only the gods riding their stallions across the green fields of the Divine Realms," her father interrupted slowly.  Although his back was still to her, he had let go of the rope.  "And—and you'd ask me, 'Papa, what do the gods look like?'"

"And you'd tell me, 'They're as radiant as the sun, as beautiful as the night sky,'" Nyah whispered standing up slowly.  

Her father turned around and faced her, tears running down his face.  He was smiling.  "But none," he said, stepping forward and stroking her cheek gently with his rough, calloused hand.  "None equal the beauty of my little princess."

Nyah smiled amid her tears and threw herself at her father.  He held her, whispering over and over, "My daughter, my daughter!"  He stroked her hair and held her tight, and together they cried, each never wanting to let go.


	15. Only Twenty Feet Away

A.N.  Okay I am REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, UNBELIEVABLY SORRY that this took so long!  Like I said, my diskette broke and I had to retype the whole thing from memory.  Anyway I am keeping my diskettes in a case on a shelf now, so they won't break anymore.  I promise!  Please Read and Review, and I'm SORRY! 

_-Rogue ; )_

Chapter 15

Cat sat at an ornately carved wooden table in the captain's cabin.  She took a moment to look around her, admiring Rikasa's collection of fine things.  The cabin itself was fairly small, but the walls were covered with maps from all parts of the world, each of them in their own frame.  Shelves of books lined the two of the four walls, some of them so old their pages were yellow, and their covers were worn and faded.  On the back wall was a glass display case that held weapons of all sorts, including swords, daggers, throwing starts, and even some sort of chain with sharpened hooks at the ends.  The table in that she sat at was beautifully carved mahogany, and looked as though it would've cost a king's ransom.  The entire room made her feel more as if she were in a fine manor, a sharp contrast to what was just outside the door.

And across from Cat sat Rikasa, his hands clasped loosely on the table.  "Well, ya've come a long way since the last time I saw ya," Cat remarked, turning her attention back to the sorcerer. 

He smiled, his cold black eyes shining in the dim light.  "Yes," he agreed.  "A year or so ago, I recently conquered one of my more water-based foes and decided to use his largest ship, the _Raven,_ as my main base of operations.  I find it much easier to plan out my strategies when I am farther away from my enemies."

Cat nodded absentmindedly.  She was still more concerned with her surroundings then listening to Rikasa talk.  "You know, while I am glad that you have decided to take part in my venture, I must ask you, what made you change your mind?"

Cat shrugged her bare shoulders.  "I finally wised up, that's all.  When ya take ya place on the throne, I don' wanna be on the bad side of the Scanran ruler," she explained.

Rikasa smiled.  "Ah, finally you indeed have come to your senses, my dear.  But here, you must be quite famished.  Bring food and drink immediately!" he called out.

At first, Cat wondered who he was talking to.  Seeing her surprised look, he smiled. "What, have you forgotten that I can summon people with my Gift?"

Cat smiled, but before she could answer, there was quiet knock on the door.  "Enter," Rikasa called out.

The door creaked open, and a young Chihopan woman, small and thin, slipped in, balancing a tray of food on one arm.  Keeping her eyes lowered, she set it on the table, bowed, and immediately walked out, as silently as she had come.  ShadowCat barely noticed this though, as she caught sight of the tray laden with food.  Her mouth began to water as she stared wide-eyed at the large, thick slices of ham, the soft, golden rolls, and the various fruits that were sliced and arranged on a platter.  Rikasa made a plate for her, heaping the food on.  Handing it to her, she murmured her thanks.  Cat began to eat faster than she though possible, finishing in less than five minutes.  When she was through, Rikasa filled her plate again, and she ate until she was full to bursting. 

After she could eat no more, Rikasa called again, and the slave woman quickly came in and took the tray without so much as a glance at either of them.  Rikasa poured them both a glass of wine, and sat back in his chair.  Cat took her goblet with a nod of thanks and placed it in front of her, though she didn't drink.  

Rikasa broke the silence first.  "So my dear," he said with a small, smile on his face.  "Now that you have agreed to lead my troops, if that is what you want to call them, we must decide when you will inspect them."

Cat nodded.  "Where are they anyway?"

"Oh, they are in a holding cell like the one you were in. There's around twenty of the little brats.  The oldest is about eleven, and the youngest, three.  There are a few I'm not sure about, but you know best who can and cannot deal with the abilities—"

"Gifts," Cat corrected with a grin.

Rikasa smiled at the girl, for a moment like the adoptive father he used to be. "—the gifts I have given you.  Just let me know if there are any you think won't make it, and I will take care of them."  Cat noticed vaguely that he didn't say how he'd "take care" of them.

"So when do ya want ta start trainin' them?" she asked, locking her gold eyes on his. 

"The sooner the better.  I'd like for them to have some basic training before they are changed."

"All right.  Now," Cat said as she made herself more comfortable in her chair.  "for what _I_ want."

            "I have taught you well," he sighed.  "Very well, what will it be?  Your friend's life?"

            Cat shook her head casually.  "No," she said, waving her hand dismissively.  "Do whatever ya want with that bitch.  I don' give damn.  However, _I_ want a few things."

            "Very well.  Name your demands, my dear ShadowCat."

            Cat smiled mischievously; she was in her element when it came to making deals.  "First of all, new clothes, seein' as ya tore mine ta shreds."  She gestured to her breast band, the only thing covering her upper body.  "My old weapons back, my own quarters on the ship, my own slaves…" she listed, ticking them off one by one on her fingers.

            Rikasa listened and when she was through, he said, "It will be done.  The clothing may take a day or two to bring back from a town, but I have a spare cabin on the ship, equal to my own that you may find to your liking."

            Cat nodded.  "Good."  There was silence for a moment; then, she took a deep breath.  "I've got one more demand for ya, my lord."

            Rikasa looked at her quizzically.  "Really? And what would that be, ShadowCat?"

            "When ya die, gods forbid, I wanna be ya successor."

            Rikasa rose from his chair quicker than lightning.  His eyes were cold and they glared at her with suspicion.  "What?" he asked, his voice clipped.

            Cat sat calmly in her chair, leaning back lazily and inspecting her nails.  "Ya successor, ya heiress, ya second… whatever ya wanna call it."  

Looking down at her, he saw the fire in her eyes, practically giving off their own light.  He searched those eyes, scanning for the deception he was sure was there.  Giving a cold, half-smile, he asked, "Why?  Do you plan to kill me, dear ShadowCat?"

Cat shook her head.  "No," she replied in the same calm tone.  She too rose from her chair, until she was looking his straight in his eyes.  "I'm young, my lord.  I got time.  But ya ain' so young anymore, and when ya finally do conquer Scanra, who's gonna be there after ya die ta make sure that what ya worked so hard for just don't fall into ruin?"

Rikasa thought that over for a moment.  He had put nearly fifteen years of his life into this crusade, and there would be many more to come.  He would rule, he would be king, but he was not immortal.  He had no children and had no intention of marrying in order to conceive one.  He hated children; he had only raised ShadowCat because he needed her.  And now, it looked like he was going to need her even after he was gone from this earth.  

He looked again into those beautiful golden eyes, those eyes that he had made.  They gazed back at him coolly, not fearing his power, though he could surely kill her with a quick, muttered word if he wished to.  He looked for that dishonesty, that trickery that he knew would have to be there.  There was always a double motive with people aspiring to greatness.  He of all people knew that.  However, all he could see was gold, and the inner light of ShadowCat, emitting from those eyes.  No matter how hard he looked, he could only see calm fearlessness, but no hint of deception.  

Slowly, he began to smile, then to laugh.  He fell back in his chair, chuckling quietly.  "Oh ShadowCat!" he sighed happily.  "I have taught you well my dear.  Indeed, you of all people should and will be my heir, or heiress I suppose in this case," he said thoughtfully.  "We shall sign it in blood on the night of the ceremony.

Cat grinned and sat back down in her chair.  Picking up her untouched goblet, she lifted it toward him.  "A toast," she suggested, "ta ya glorious and soon-to-be reign of Scanra."

Rikasa smiled and lifted his glass.  "To _our_ reign."

And with a clink of glass, the deal was sealed.

*          *          *

Cat knew that her father couldn't stay forever, but when they finally broke apart, it took all her strength not to run back to his arms.  She wanted him to stay with her forever, to make up for all the time that they had missed out on.  So many years, she had lived without him, thinking he was never coming back… 

Nevertheless, she controlled herself and slowly helped him gather his things and place them in his pack.  Tears tugged at her eyes and she felt mechanical.  The logical part of her said that if he didn't go back up soon, they would be found out, and then they would both be killed.  As it was, the crew was already getting impatient, hollering down to her father to hurry up.  However, the little girl inside her, the one that had sworn her father was dead and gone, wanted to burst into tears of joy, hold her father and never let go.  

He slung his pack over his shoulder, and took a deep breath.  It took Nyah a moment to realize that her strong, brave father had been crying.  He held open his arms, and she rushed into them as if she were a six-year-old girl again.  He pressed her head against his chest and rocked her gently back and forth.  "Don't worry," he whispered. "We'll get out of this; I promise."

Nyah forced herself to break away from him and took a long, shaky breath.  "I know," she whispered, with a small smile.  Her father leaned in and gave her a peck on her forehead.  Then without another word, he turned and climbed up the rope, hand over hand.  She watched until he swung himself over the side and she heard the clang of the grate above, and the ominous sound of the lock being clicked shut.   

She sat down on the floor, the joy leaving her as quickly as it had come.  She looked at her bandaged hands and smiled sadly as she realized that the throbbing pain that had been emitting from them had subsided.  Her father still loved her, after all these years and she loved him, but the chances of the both of them getting out of this alive were unbelievably slim. 

Nyah looked up and saw the metal grate twenty feet above her.  Never before had it looked so solid and impassable.  She felt as if she were sinking in self-pity; as if a large a tremendous weight was inside her, crushing her spirit.  She couldn't jump twenty feet into the air and get through the grate; the most she could do was unlock it with her Gift, and then where would she be?  Twenty feet away from freedom.

She pounded her fist on the floor with frustration, then winced in pain as she remembered her knuckles a second too late.  Still the anger boiled inside her, the anger for Rikasa, for ShadowCat, for Kiloa, for everything.  She was sick of feeling helpless!  Suddenly, she had an idea.  Slowly, her mind began working towards a plan.  She only needed a few things…

*          *          *

Eric jolted himself awake for what seemed the hundredth time.  He and the rest of the Rogue were dead tired, having not stopped to rest for the past five hours.  The dawn wasn't far off, and George was determined to make it to a small costal village called Salt Harbor before they stopped for the night.  Supposedly there was an inn, with beds and good hot food and drink.

Eric was beyond road weary at this point.  Every muscle in his body ached from the ride, and he had to force his eyes to stay open as his horse plodded along.  The only thing that kept him going was the fact that everyday they spent on the road was a day longer that Nyah had to spend in captivity.  Already they had been on the road for a week and a half, taking all the short cuts that anyone knew off.  He knew that time was running out, and he also knew that they were hopelessly lost.  Although George didn't tell anyone else, save Rispah and Eric, one of the main reasons he wanted to get to Salt harbor was to see how far off they were from their destination. 

To keep awake, Eric imagined all the ways he would kill Rikasa when he found him.  He was on plan forty-two when they came to the edge of Salt Harbor. 

An hour later, he and the rest of the Rogue were in the inn's stable, putting up their horses.  The inn was along the main road of the village, about two blocks away from the Emerald Ocean.  Eric could smell the salty air, carried along by the soft ocean breezes.  Eric felt himself drawn to the small stable window, where he could just see a bit of the water from between the houses.  The other members of the Rogue stumbled wearily to the inn and up to their rooms, but Eric stole off to the ocean.  He knew he wouldn't be missed if he was only gone for a few minutes.  

He made his way to the ocean and took a deep breath, inhaling the salty air.  Taking off his boots, he walked through the sand.  He enjoyed the feeling of the sand between his toes, and he picked up a handful and let it slowly slip through his fingers.  As he looked out over the ocean, he saw the beautiful sunrise, its radiance enhanced by its reflection.  Walking farther out, he rolled his pants to his knees and stepped into the ocean.  He gasped at its iciness; he had forgotten how cold it could be during early fall.  He waded out until the water was up to his knees, closed his eyes, and inhaled the air.  The salt water tingled against his bare skin, and he felt himself bombarded with memories as he stood there. 

When he was young, his father had been in the service of a wealthy merchant named Collins.  The Tanners had been with the Collins for generations, and Eric's father had been teaching him all the tricks of the trade.  Every year, Eric watched as Master Collins, his father, and the rest of the family servants pack large wagons full of goods to trade and sell at the annual fair in Port Caynn.  

On his fifth birthday, Eric was finally permitted to go with them for the first time.  On the way to Port Caynn, he was filled with excitement.  He had never been to a trading fair, and he was eager to see all the wares for sale.  The day they arrived, Eric was spellbound.  It was even larger than he had anticipated, and more grand.  However, the thing that had enthralled him the most was his first sight of the Emerald Ocean.  It was so gargantuan, so vast.  The waters were as green as their namesake proclaimed, and the air, though filled with the many scents of foods sold at the fair, was overpowered by the salty tang of the ocean.  The waves lapped against the shore and seemed to beckon the young Eric towards them.  

Master Collins' booth was hardly twenty feet away from the ocean, yet Eric was forbidden to leave.  He was, after all, a servant and couldn't leave unless given permission.  All day though, his mind was only half attentive to his work.  The other half was a slave to the sound of the waves, constantly calling him towards the water.  Only twenty feet, but to his child's mind, it was more like twenty miles.  It was an oddly soothing sound, so repetitive, and the salt was calming.  He had never had a better night's sleep in his short five years then when he was at the inn with his window open, hearing and smelling the ocean. 

He never saw the ocean again.  Shortly after the fair, his father caught fever and died.  Heartbroken, Eric's only comfort was the thought of the ocean, its smell and the comforting slap of the waves.  Things went from bad to worse, and scarcely three months after his father died, Master Collins expired from the same fever.  Leaving no heirs behind but a large amount of unpaid debt, Eric was cast out into the street with nothing but the clothes on his back.

Gradually, he had learned to pickpocket without getting caught.  At nights he slept in doorways or allies, and every night he cried himself to sleep.  Sometimes he was unable to find food and his cold, six-year-old body was tired and hungry.  When things got that bad, he would fall asleep thinking of the ocean, and he'd be comforted, if only for one night.

            Eventually he wandered into Corus and made the mistake of trying to pickpocket George, a young teen at the time.  At first, George was all for taking the young seven-year-old to the current King of the Rogue, but after hearing Eric's story, he took the frightened child under his wing.  He helped convinced the Rogue to let the boy join, gave him a place to stay, and even taught him how to steal things worth the work.

            That had all been nearly thirteen years ago, and now he was back to the ocean.  The air was still the same calming fragrance; the water still lapped the shore over and over again, the repetition of it as soothing as a lullaby.  And now, thirteen years later, those twenty feet of space between him and the waters had been closed up and here he stood in the bottle green waters of the Emerald Ocean.

             "Young man?  Are you all right?"

            Eric was abruptly snapped back to reality.  He turned and saw an old woman peering at him.  Her hair was pulled back into a sharp bun, and she had a large, empty shopping basket hooked on one arm.  "Yes, milady," he said, putting on a roguish grin.  "I'm fine."

            "Well one wouldn't think it.  Only fools go out into the middle of the ocean during fall.  You'll catch your death of cold," she chided.

            Eric blushed and quickly exited the water.  He walked over and grabbed his boots. The old woman followed him and laughed at his expression of embarrassment.  "Don't be ashamed, young man.  I too love the ocean.  It's a rather compelling force, isn't it?"

            Eric pulled on one of his boots and bent down to tie it.  "It sure is," he agreed. "It's so big.  It's like at some point out there, the sky merges with the water, you know?"

            The old woman smiled and her voice was softer when she spoke. "Yes, it is.  Wave Walker knew what she was doing when she chose this area for her own."

            Eric nodded in agreement and jumped up, his boots tied.  "Well madam, it's been a pleasure, but I'm afraid I have to go."  He turned to leave, and her hand shot our and grabbed his arm.  

            "I beg your pardon?" she replied incredulously.  "Where are you from young man, that you treat your women so rudely?" 

            Eric looked at her with a bewildered expression. 

            She sighed.  "A gentlemen _never_ leaves a woman without first escorting her to her destination," she informed him haughtily. 

            "He doesn't?" 

            "No," she replied.  Looping his arm through her own, she smiled.  "There.  Now let's be off."

            Eric felt himself being pulled through the streets of Salt Harbor as the crazy old woman pulled him like a dog on a leash.  He knew that the man was supposed to lead, but he felt like he was being dragged halfway around the world and back again by this mad woman.  As they walked and the old woman stopped occasionally to purchase things from various shops, they talked—well, she talked and Eric was forced to listen—about how she was a healer and her various patients.

            Eric looked up in the sky and moaned.  The sun was at the ten o'clock position, and he was dead tired.  If Sarah Miller, as he had learned she was called, didn't hurry up soon, he was liable to fall asleep in the middle of the streets.  The gods must have heard his prayer, because soon they were headed towards a large house, which he assumed was her home and her hospital.  

            Numbly, he walked her to the door and stopped.  "You know," she said as she stared at his exhausted self.  "You remind me of someone."

            "Really?" Eric asked, not listening.

            "Yes, a young woman who came through her a few weeks ago.  She brought a girl in, oh what a wild one she was.  No tact or respect for anyone except the older girl.  I thought they might be sisters, but the older one has brown hair and the younger black with blue streaks and golden eyes.  My gods she was a feisty one.  Now what was her name?  Something-Cat, I know."

            Suddenly, Sarah Miller had Eric's full attention.  "Gold eyes?  Really?  And this older girl, what was her name?"

            She put her hand on her hip and thought.  "Oh it started with an 'N', I believe. 'Ni' something."

            "Nyah?" Eric breathed, barely able to contain his excitement. 

            Sarah snapped her fingers.  "That's it!"  Then, with more suspicion, "How did you know?"

            "Oh, just a lucky guess," he said quickly.  "Do you know where they were going?"

            "Oh, I really don't know for sure, but I overheard them talking, and I know that they were staying along the coastline and headed north.  But that was at least two weeks ago, so they could've changed their course by now."

            Eric nodded.  "Well Mistress Miller, I believe I have escorted you to your destination as a gentleman should, so I had better get going now." 

            "Very well.  Thank you very much… What did you say your name was?"

            Eric grinned roguishly, the excitement making the adrenaline rush through his veins.  "I didn't.  It's Eric, Eric Tanner of the Rogue," he said, not really caring if she knew.

            Mistress Miller smiled.  "Well we'll just keep that between ourselves.  Good day Eric."

            He turned and darted down the street at a full run.  Mistress Miller watched for a moment until he was out of sight, then smirked.  "There you pushy young goddess," she said to no one in particular.  "I've done what you've asked, now stay out of my dreams.  I want a peaceful night's rest."  With that, she turned and went inside, shutting the door behind her.    
            


	16. Giving Up

A.N.:  Hey y'all!  Sorry this took me so long, but you have no idea how hard it was! I couldn't find a stopping point (It's eleven pages long!), and then when I finally decided, I was debating on whether or not to leave you in suspense.  Guess what I decided?  *Laughs evilly*  Anyway I promise to have the next chapter up A.S.A.P.  So for now, enjoy chapter sixteen!  (And don't forget get to read and review! ; )  ) 

_—Rogue _

Chapter 16 

Cat was relaxing on her soft bed in her new cabin on the ship.  The room was only slightly smaller than Rikasa's cabin was, and it was furnished simply, just the way she liked it.  Her soft feather bed on which she now reclined was tucked into the corner of the room.  An empty boudoir was opposite her; the clothes that Rikasa had ordered made for her would take two or three days to complete.  Across the room were a writing desk and a tall shelf full of books, though Cat had no desire to use either of them. 

Right now all she wanted to do was sleep.  As her eyes closed, a fist pounded on her door.  She sighed heavily.  "Who is it?" she called without opening her eyes.  

"Loch, miss," came the reply from the other side of the door. 

She heaved another sigh and propped herself up on her elbows.  Two Chihopan slave women that were standing at the door looked up at her meekly, as if they were terribly afraid.  "One of ya get that."  She motioned to the door.  

The door was opened and the two women bowed deeply to Loch as he entered.  Loch looked at them hungrily for a moment, then turned to his attention to the girl on the bed.  She glared at him for a moment, then he grudgingly saluted her.  "His Highness wishes you to come and review the brats now," he said coldly.  He wasn't happy answering to a child, albeit one that could probably kill him if she felt like it.  

Cat groaned and stood up, stretching slowly, extending her limbs to their farthest reach, like a feline.  Loch couldn't help but notice that no matter how he despised the girl, he longed for her womanly body.  She was already tall and well curved at age thirteen, and the fact that all she wore was a breast band, tight breeches, and a pair of black leather boots made her all the more appealing.  

Cat caught his lustful gaze and scowled at him.  "Don' get any ideas, or I'll kick ya ass from here ta the other side of the Emerald Ocean," she warned as she passed him on her way out.  

  "Bitch," he muttered under his breath.  He glared at her as she breezed past him and her slaves.

"And by the way," she said, turning to face him in the doorway.  "It's 'General Bitch'.  I'm sure His Highness told ya."

She walked across the deck, her two Chihopan slaves following, as Loch stood fuming in her cabin.   Cat walked down a set of stairs that led below decks and into a dark hallway.  At the end of the hall was a thick wooden door guarded by two men.  They opened the door upon her arrival and she stepped inside.  

The room was dark inside, and it took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the dimness.  When they did, she looked to her left and saw Rikasa standing there, smiling warmly at her.  She grinned back and walked over to him, leaving her slaves at the door.  

"Hello, my dear," he said.  "Are you ready to inspect the recruits?"

"Yeah," she said.  "These them?"  she turned and looked in front of her at the group of twenty or so children who sat sniveling and crying in a ragged line against the opposite wall.  Their ankles were shackled, and one long chain ran through all their bonds and attacked to a metal ring in the wall, linking then together.  

Rikasa nodded and Cat smirked.  This was going to be fun.  She stepped forward and looked at them with scrutinizing eyes.  They were children ranging in age from four to twelve, and they all had the pale skin and blonde hair that all Scanrans had, though these children were tanned from being out in the sunlight.  They were all small and muscular, perfect for Rikasa's plan.  He had chosen these ones well.  

"Get up!" Cat said coldly.  They stared at her dumbly.  "What are ya, deaf?" she asked indignantly.  "I said get up!  Now!" 

Slowly they stumbled to their feet amid a rustle of chains.  A little girl clung to what appeared to be her older brother's leg, and Cat scowled.  "Let go of him!" she cried angrily, reaching out and pulling the girl and breaking her grip.  "Ya don' depend on nobody, ya understand me?" she asked as she leaned close to the girl's terrified face.  "Ya do that again, and I will permanently remove ya from my sight."

She stepped back and looked at all the children again.  "Listen up!  From now on, ya refer ta me as 'ma'am'.  I don' care if ya hear people call me anythin' else, ya still refer ta me as 'ma'am'.  Anyone that does otherwise can answer ta me personally.  Do ya understand?"  

There was no response as the Chihopan children stared at her numbly, wondering why this girl, barely a year older than a few of them, was yelling and commanding them like she was one of the soldiers.  

"I said, do ya understand?"

"Yes ma'am!" they called, their voices trembling. 

"I can't here ya," she warned.  

"Yes ma'am!"  they all yelled in unison, louder this time.  One boy though, glared at her defiantly and kept his jaw firmly glued shut.  

Cat walked down the line and stood in front of him.  She leaned in close till their noses were almost touching.  "Do ya understand me, boy?" she asked, her voice threatening.  

"Why should I listen to you?" he spat rebelliously.

Cat stepped back and gave a short laugh.  Then without warning, she flipped over his head and kicked his feet out from under him.  Before he could even register what had happened, she was on top of him, and her knife was at his throat.  "Because if ya don'," she informed him, cocking her head to one side, "I will slit ya throat and rid myself of ya insubordination.  Now," she said, her voice low,  "what is my name?"  

The boy gulped, his eyes wide in terror.  "M-ma'am!" he stuttered.  

"Good boy," she growled and pulled her blade away from his neck.  She stood and tucked it back in the boot sheath.  

"Startin' tomorrow," she announced.  "Ya will all be answerin' ta me.  I will work ya ta the bone, and if ya have a problem with that, I will take care of ya the same way I just took care of smart ass down there," she said as she gestured to the rebellious boy who rubbed his neck tenderly.  

"From this moment on, ya do not cry.  Cryin' is weakness, and I don' need no weaklins'.  Ya do not cry, ya do not show fear, ya do not feel pain.  Understood?"

"Yes ma'am!"  the children chorused.  

Satisfied, Cat turned to Rikasa.  "They'll do," she informed him.  "The older ones like the Smart Ass may need a bit more breakin' in than the little ones, but they'll do.  How much are ya feedin' them?"  she asked him.  

"They get a loaf of bread and a canteen everyday for two of them to split," he told her.  

"Give each his own loaf, and make it twice a day.  And put some meat in there, for the gods' sake.  They can't build muscles if they don' have meat.  And give them each a canteen that they can carry with them all the time.  The last thing I need is them all dead 'cause of dehydration or starvation."

Rikasa pondered this for a moment.  "Very well.  I can see your logic in this, ShadowCat.  But if they feel as though they are getting' special treatment…" he cautioned.  

Cat grinned.  "Trust me, my lord.  By tomorrow, they'll be wishin' that they _were_ dead."

*          *          *

Two days later, George and the rest of the Rogue were stampeding down the coastline.  George let Eric lead, since the teen seemed to know where he was going, though George had his doubts.  After all, Nyah and ShadowCat could've changed their course by now, or could be hundreds of miles further.  

When the sun had set and they could no longer see the road in front of them, George called a halt and they set up camp.  After filling their stomachs with hot food, everyone unpacked their bedrolls and immediately fell into a deep sleep.  

The only one who was not taking advantage of the precious hours of rest was George.  He sat with his back to a tree, looking out over the dying campfire at the ocean.  He had his doubts about if they were going to get there in time, though he did not voice them aloud.  After all, what if they were ambushed by some of Rikasa's men on the way there?  He didn't trust Rikasa one bit, and he didn't believe that the man would play by the rules at all.

Not that George had any intention of playing by the rules, either.  They would never have been able to get one hundred fifty gold nobles together in time, not even if they had robbed every single person in sight.  Instead the bag that George had strapped to his waist was filled with one hundred fifty worthless lead disks that were roughly the same size and shape as gold nobles.  He and his Rogue would board the ship and give Rikasa the painted lead instead of actual gold in exchange for Nyah and ShadowCat.  He had no doubt that Rikasa would attempt to check the gold, so he and the Rogue were armed with bows and arrows, staffs, and knives.  He also had his sword, in case things got really nasty.

But first they had to get to the meeting point.  And how much further was it?  He sighed and leaned back against the tree.  There were too many questions to this mission, too many things that could go wrong.  

"Hey," Rispah's soft voice drifted towards him.  George looked up and smiled faintly at his cousin.  She came over and sat down next to him.  "You should get some sleep, you know," she told him gently. 

George nodded, but made no move for his bedroll.  Rispah took a sidelong glance at George.  The past two weeks had taken its toll on him.  His hazel eyes were ringed with dark circles, and a few strands of gray streaked his brown hair.   

"Look out there, Rispah," he said, pointing out to the ocean.  "Look at it.  It's so vast.  It just keeps on going forever, and I don't see a single ship bobbing out there in the water, not even a little fishing boat."

Rispah knew what her cousin was thinking and reached out, grasping his hand comfortingly.  "Don't worry, George.  We'll find her.  We'll get her back, and we'll all go home and it'll all be over."

"How can you be so sure?"  he asked her.  "How do you know that we can all come out of this okay?  Even if we get her out, how do you know someone else won't get killed or injured while we're fighting?"

"George, everyone knew when they volunteered that they risked death," Rispah said.  "And they still came because they wanted to help Nyah.  They'd do anything for her, you know that.  We all would."

George sighed.  "I know.  It's just… it seems so hopeless.  We don't even know how much farther we have to go.  As  far as we know, it could be just beyond that cliff, or two hundred miles past it.  And with only two days left…  I don't know, sometimes it just seems easier to give up," George said softly, more to himself than to Rispah. 

Rispah looked at her cousin in shock.  George Cooper, King of the Court of the Rogue, her favorite cousin and best friend was giving up?  After all that they had been through, now that they were so close, he was going to give up?

Rispah turned and looked at George, her hazel eyes glinting fiercely with their own inner light.  She locked her eyes with his own.  "Listen to me, George.  All my life, you've been the one to make things better.  You always knew just what to say to make all the pain go away, to make all my fears vanish.  You were like my rock, George.  I knew I could always depend on you."

"Rispah—"

"Hush.  When we were kids, you were always the one who was getting into trouble.  Do you remember that George?"  

A trace of a smile appeared on George's face as he remembered his childhood days.  

"You never backed down from a fight, no matter how bad your odds were.  When I was young, I thought it was foolish pride or stupidity, but I see now that it was courage and determination.  You won because you persevered no matter what.  It was those same qualities of courage and determination that made you the king of this Rogue, that set you apart as a leader.

"Of course it's easier to just give up.  But nothing is ever hopeless, and the George I knew was never one to give up before.  Not ever.  Not even when he was knocked down and he was face first in the dirt. He just got right back up and kept on fighting."

"Maybe he just finally realized that you can't avoid the inevitable," George remarked bitterly.

But Rispah shook her head.  "No," she replied as she stood and brushed the dirt from her clothes.  "He's just gotten knocked down and hasn't gotten up yet."

George looked up at her in surprise and her eyes glinted.  "Good night," she told him.  She turned to walk away, but George reached out and grabbed her arm.   

She looked back, and he grinned roguishly.  "I was never going to give up, you know," he said, his eyes sparking, "I was merely commenting on how large the ocean was."

Rispah laughed and pulled her hand away.  "Now_ that_ is foolish pride," she told him.  "Now get some sleep.  We've got a long ride ahead of us," she informed him.  

"Yes, mother," George replied mockingly as he unpacked his bedroll.  

He climbed into it, then called out,  "Rispah!"

She turned back and looked at him.  "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"For what?" she asked. 

"For helping me get back up again," George told her.  

Rispah just smiled and walked back to the other side of the camp.  "Good night, George," she whispered so that only she could here. "And you're welcome."

*          *          *

That same night, Nyah woke aboard the ship with a start.  She sat bolt up right and felt herself trembling.  She was drenched with a cold sweat, and her skin felt clammy.  Shaking, she leaned back against the wall and conjured up a ball of emerald light in her palm.  Casting it into the pole that sat in the middle of the cell, the area was soon lit up with a faint emerald glow.  

She took several deep breaths to calm herself down and took comfort in the warm light.  _That was one of the most terrifying dreams of my life,_ she thought tiredly.  In it, she had been executing her plan, and it was going perfectly.  She and her father were climbing into a longboat and were about to lower it down, when suddenly, a bright white light was cast upon them.  It blinded them both for a moment, and Nyah  threw her arms up to shield her eyes.  A shadow was cast upon the floor and Nyah looked up, squinting.  A black form stood against the white backdrop, and she stared curiously.  The figure took two steps forward, and Nyah saw now that it was ShadowCat.  She felt her fists clench at the sight of the traitor, but something stopped her from springing.  She peered at the girl's face in surprise.  It was twisted in a mask of fear, and it was deathly pale.  Nyah was about to call her name, when suddenly Cat fell forward and hit the floor, face first.  Three arrows pierced the girl's back, and her dead body laid stiff and cold on the deck.  Nyah gasped in shock. 

Suddenly, hands of shadow reached out and snatched her father from her side.  She screamed and ran after him, but no matter how fast she ran, he still got farther and farther away until he was merely a black speck.  Then, Nyah couldn't stop running, no matter how hard she tried.  Her feet kept moving until all of the sudden, she was sitting in the common room of the Dancing Dove, but it was not like she remembered it. 

Nyah blinked once, adjusting her eyes to the dimness of the room.   She sat at a table with George, and was shocked by his appearance.  He sat with his head in one hand; the other arm was in a sling and hung useless in front of his chest.  A bloodstained bandage was wrapped around his head, and his brown hair was matted with blood.  Something gold glinted in front of him, and Nyah looked down.  On the table sat her locket, and Nyah watched as George brought his good hand down and traced the diamond pattern with his finger.  With his hand moved, Nyah could see a long gash down his right cheek.  She watched in horror as George let a single tear fall from bloodshot eyes.  She reached out to comfort him, but her hand went straight through his arm, like a ghost.  

What was happening?  Why couldn't she help him, touch him?  Nyah sat back and looked around the common room.  What she saw surprised her.  Only about half of the usual members of the Rogue were there, and those that were present were in terrible condition.  She saw Leon sitting at a table, his leg propped up on a stool and held by a splint and crutch on the floor next to him.  Turning her head, she saw Marek with his arm on the table, but he was missing his hand.  The stub was wrapped in a thick white bandage, and from the look on his face, it was hurting him painfully.  Nyah continued to look around the room, seeing others who were broken and beaten like Leon, or missing limb like Marek.  All of them were covered in gashes and bruises.  

No matter where she looked, she could not find Eric, and she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.  Where was he?  Why wasn't he with everyone else?  She heard George mutter something and turned back to look at him.  "Gone," he whispered, his voice choking on tears, "all of them.  Eric, Rispah, Orem, Shem, Ercole, 'Fingers…Nyah.  They're all gone."

Nyah sat back in her chair, dumbstruck.  _Gone?  What does he mean gone?  _

_You know what he means, my child._

A clear voice sounded gently in her head, and Nyah looked up.  "What's going on, Kiloa?" she asked.  "What has happened to everyone?"

This has not happened yet, but it will if you try to take matters into your own hands.  Do not try to escape from Rikasa yet.  If you do, you will only hurt others and yourself.  

"What do you mean?" she whispered, feeling tears roll down her cheeks. 

If you do not heed my warning, all whom you love  will die, my child, and I will not be able to stop it.  Your father will be taken prisoner again, and Eric will die trying to save you.  ShadowCat will be killed.  Rispah and others of the Rogue whom you hold dear will be murdered, and George and those who survive will be broken, unable to cope with the loss of you and others.  Do you understand what I am telling you?

Nyah nodded, unable to speak.  

You must remain helpless for a little while longer.  The day will soon come when you will despair, and everything will seem hopeless. But remember that nothing is ever completely hopeless.  I will be with you, even when you think that you are doomed.  Don't forget that, Nyah.

Nyah had nodded, and then suddenly she had awoken.  She sat there now, her head in her hands.  She couldn't stay there much longer.  She hated feeling helpless, and now that she had finally come up with a plan for escape,  Kiloa was telling her that she couldn't go through with it.  

She thought about defying the goddess, just this once, but the memories of seeing everyone she loved dead stopped her.  There was no way she could sentence everyone she loved to death just for herself.  

She rested her head in her hands, shaking.  Vaguely, she notice that her hair was twisted into a myriad of tiny braids.  _Kiloa must've done it,_ she realized.  _But what is that supposed to do? _ she thought bitterly. _ What is reminding me that I am Princess of Thieves going to do?  _"It doesn't matter if I'm Princess of Tortall," she said angrily.  "I'm still going to die anyway."

 Feeling deserted, she curled back up on the dirty old straw and cried silent tears, trying to blot out those terrible memories of her dream.

*          *          *

ShadowCat leaned back against a tree, the late morning sun warming her tan skin.  She had been training the children for four days now, and tonight was the night of the ceremony.  Earlier today she and the children had set out at first light, rowing towards shore in three long boats.  Cat took them to an open clearing where they warmed up, jumping and running to prepare themselves for the day.  Then she paired them up and set them to doing hand-to-hand combat for the next hour, watching with a hawk's eye.  Occasionally she would break  pairs up and set them against others that were either bigger or stronger than them, so that they would learn to move defensively as well. 

When their punches barely had the strength to injure a housefly, she called a half hour break.  They immediately found a spring and gulped down the water, drinking as though they had been walking through the desert for years.  Some of the children wearily waded in, letting the cool water caress their skin.  Cat leaned against a tree, and watched the children as they nearly fell asleep on the grass.  In about fifteen minutes, she would begin with weapons.  Most of the children were already a fairly good shot with the bow, but their swordplay and chain work was abominable.  She couldn't really blame them about the swords, though.  Rikasa hadn't thought to make child-sized blades; instead, they fought with extra swords for the crew.  They were so absurdly large and heavy, some of the youngest ones couldn't even lift them.  Cat let them practice with weighted sticks for now, until they could get their hands on some real equipment.  

The extra food had helped tremendously.  They had color back in their faces now, and their bones were sticking out either.  The younger ones didn't cry nearly as often no that their stomachs weren't growling, though none of the children ever smiled or laughed.  Cat didn't care as long as they had enough energy to follow orders and work hard. 

ShadowCat sighed and jumped up from the ground.  "Let's go!" she called to the children.

They quickly got up, not wanting to be disciplined by "Ma'am".

"Grab ya swords and follow me back ta the clearin'," she told them, drawing her own blade. 

"Yes, ma'am!"  They snatched up their swords (or sticks in about half the cases) and proceeded to the clearing, where Cat showed them yet another pattern of moves.

At noon the children, bone tired, marched wearily back to the boats.  "Ya did a good job today," Cat told them as they tossed their weapons in one of the boats.  They all froze at the compliment and looked at her strangely.  "What?" she asked at their wondering looks. 

The older ones shrugged their shoulders and had the good sense not to say anything, but the youngest one (whom Cat had dubbed "Shortie") who was four wasn't quite as smart.  "Whadaya mean, Ma'am?" she asked Cat.

The others spun around and watched Cat with baited breath.  No one _ever_ questioned "Ma'am", not ever.  Cat however just gave a small, sarcastic grin.  "Don' let it go ta ya head, Shortie," she told her, ruffling her hair as she passed the girl by.  "I said ya did good.  I didn' say ya were anywhere near ready."

"Ready for what?" Shortie asked innocently.

Cat froze.  The children still didn't know why they were being trained for battle, and Cat had never told them the horrors that would occur that night.  Though she wouldn't admit it, she didn't want to tell them.  She told herself it was because she didn't want to hear all that screaming and crying again, but she had a nagging feeling that it was something else…

"Enough!  Gods kid, don' ya ever shut up?" Car whirled on Shortie, who knew instantly she had made a mistake.  

The little girl looked at her in fear.  "S-sorry, Ma'am!"  she stuttered.  

Cat sighed and rubbed her temples.  "Get in the boat, Shortie.  All of ya get in two boats, ya hear?  Smart Ass,"  Cat called over the boy who had the unfortunate luck of being named "Smart Ass" after defying Cat that first day.  "Take the other boat and pull it on shore.  Pull it behind that rock so that it's out of sight."

Smart Ass raised his eyebrows in question, but nodded and did as she asked.  Then, with all of them piled in the two longboats,  they began rowing back towards the ship. 

*          *          *

Eric watched the sun slowly dip down behind the horizon on this, the final night, and he felt his heart sink with it.  They still rode hard, but if the meeting point wasn't beyond this next cliff,  he knew that it was over.  He said a silent prayer to the Thief, begging for this to be it.  As they rounded the cliff, he stared at his horse's mane, afraid to look up.  He was afraid of what he would—or wouldn't—see. 

"Hey!" George's commanding voice rang out and Eric's jerked head up.  His heart swelled in his chest at the sight of a burly man standing impatiently on the shore.  He had his arms crossed over his chest and was watching the setting sun with annoyance.  Beyond him and slightly to the right, a ways off shore was a large ship, bobbing gently in the waves.  The cliff that had been before them had just hidden it from their view. 

When he heard George's call, he jerked his head around and scowled as the ten or so members of the Rogue rode up to him.  "Ya George?" he asked edgily, his hand on his sword  hilt.  "George Cooper, of the Court of the Rogue?"

Marek glared down at the man from the top of his horse.  "That's King George Cooper of the Rogue to you, sir," he said heatedly.  

Although the seaman was terribly outnumbered by men on horseback, he showed no outward sign of fear.  Rather, he scowled at them and looked at Marek with scrutinizing eyes.  "The only king up in these  parts is Lord Rikasa," he sneered.  "So ya'd best watch what ya say, outsider, or I'll slice ya from nose ta toes."

Marek's face grew red with anger and his hand reached for a dagger.  He urged his horse forward and the mare took a hesitant few steps.  "Why you—,"

George reached out and help his hand out in front of Marek, stopping him.  "Trade insults and cross weapons later, Marek," he said in hushed undertones.  "They've still got Nyah on that ship."

Marek gave a grudging nod, and then removed his hand from inside his cloak.  His knuckles were white from the grip they had on his reins.

"We didn't come here to be insulted," George informed the man, sitting atop his horse and looking for all the world like he was the king of Tortall himself.  "We came to get back a friend.  Are you supposed to take us to the ship or not?"

"That depends," the man growled.  "Ya got the money?"  George held up the leather drawstring bag that held the "gold" coins.  "Then let's go."

Everyone dismounted and the man stopped them.  "Hold up a minute.  I only got orders ta take the king aboard.  Everyone else gotta stay here."

"What?"  Eric asked in disbelief.  He pulled a dagger and stepped close till he was inches away from the man.  "We are all going, sir, despite what orders you may have.  Is that clear?"

The man eyed the weapon as if it were a mere child's toy.  "I got my orders.  They are ta disarm the king and take only him aboard, no one else.  Ya wouldn' all fit in the boat anyhow.  And ya little knife don' scare me none, boy, so put it away before I put ya eyes out," the sailor growled.  

Eric felt himself grow hot with fury, but he sheathed the blade nonetheless.  He didn't want to do anything that would jeopardize their already delicate situation.  Stepping back, he felt Leon's strong arm on his shoulder, preventing him from stepping forward again.  

"Take off ya weapons," the man commanded George.  "All of them."  George glared at him, but begrudgingly took off his sword, quiver and bow, and all visible daggers till all that was left was the coins that were tied to his waist.  He handed his arms to Rispah who nodded knowingly and placed them in her saddlebag.  

"Happy?" George asked sarcastically as the man studied him with a dissecting eye.  

"Yeah," he said after a moment.  "Get it."  The two of them entered the boat and the rest of the Rogue watched as their leader was slowly rowed toward shore.  

After they were out of earshot, Marek cursed and kicked at the sand and pebbles.  "That man is going to get what's coming to him, make no mistake about that," he said.  

Eric felt completely helpless, but he didn't know what he could do.  He wanted to help Nyah, and he and the rest of the Rogue somehow had to get on that ship.  He wandered over to the side of the beach and saw something that made his eyes bulge out in surprise.  He dashed over to a pile of long grasses and leaves, clumsily strewn over a large mound.  Brushing them off, he saw in shock that it was a longboat that could easily seat six or seven men.  "Hey guys!" he called.  "Looks like we won't be missing any action after all."

*          *          *

Nyah groaned and her head throbbed as though she had been hit from behind.  Thinking back, it slowly dawned on her that she _had _been hit.  She had been down in the cell, when three men came down and tried to shackle her ankles and hands together.  She had lashed out, kicking and punching them, but in the dark, confined space, she was quickly brought to her knees.  Someone had hit her over the head with the hilt of his blade, and she had felt herself fall to the ground before her vision blacked out and she slipped into unconsciousness.  

Now she moaned and made to put her hands to her head to silence the pounding, but she found out that her arms were chained behind her.  Opening her eyes, she craned her neck around to see that her arms were hooked around an anchor, not a large one mind you, but one that was used to weigh down small fishing boats.  Still, it was heavy, and greatly hindered her movement.  She slowly sat up on her knees, leaning forward slightly because of the heavy weight.  

Slowly she looked at her surroundings, and her eyes widened in fascination.  She was above deck, and three men stood guarding her, though their eyes were fixed on something in front of them.  Nyah looked around the deck and saw that the fifty other men were all staring at the same thing.  Lifting her head, she saw Rikasa and ShadowCat standing on a small platform on the western side of the ship, facing the setting sun.  

Setting sun?  Nyah felt alarm slice into her heart like a icy blade.  The two weeks were up, and there was no Rogue in sight.  She stared at the wooden planks in dismay.  Kiloa's planning was for naught.  Why did she listen to the prissy little goddess anyway?  All she had ever done was cause Nyah trouble and headaches.  And this time, she would cost Nyah her life.  

She felt as though she was being watched, and she looked up.  Her eyes locked with a pair of gold ones, and she felt rage burn in her heart.  She watched as Cat smiled and stepped off the platform and slowly walked over to Nyah, like a feline stalking her prey.  

The girl looked different then when Nyah had last seen her.  The past week of eating healthy and getting fresh air and sunlight had improved her skin tone, making it the warm tan flesh it usually was.  She was dressed in skintight pants and a shirt.  There were slits cut provocatively in the arms from shoulder to elbow, and then from elbow to wrist, as well as from her hip to her knee and from there to her ankle.  The neckline was cut low, plunging down in between her breasts.  She wore new knee high black boots that shone even in the dim glow of the sunset.  Her hair had been trimmed and the blue streaks stood out shockingly from the rest of her black mane.  Nyah noticed jealously that the girl had a brand new leather belt as well as new weapons made from the finest steel money could buy.  She had two swords strapped to her back, sheathed near her shoulders so that she could reach them easily.

Nyah glowered at ShadowCat as the girl came closer to her.  Nyah looked straight into those golden eyes that seemed to give off an eerie glow of their own.  Cat bent down and fingered one of Nyah's new braids in surprise.  "Huh," she said sarcastically.  "Ya had a lot of time on ya hands, didn' ya?"

Nyah glared at the girl and wished desperately for a blade of her own.  "You traitorous little bitch," she hissed, seething with anger.  

Cat smirked.  "Ya of all people should know, Princess.  Never trust a thief."

Nyah glowered as Cat turned and walked back towards Rikasa.  She said something, but Nyah was too far away to hear.  She watched in horror as Rikasa smiled at her and they walked to a table that had been placed at one end of the platform.  On the table was a paper, a peacock pen, and an empty jar.  Cat drew a newly minted dagger from her belt and sliced a long gash along her forearm.  The blood dripped heavily, and she drizzled it into the jar, filling it halfway.  Rikasa then repeated the motion, filling the rest of the jar with his blood, which then sparked as the magic that was in his veins touched the blood of something he had created.  Nyah felt sick watching the two of them as Rikasa dipped his pen in the blood and signed the document with a flourish.  ShadowCat took the pen from him and signed her name as well.  Rikasa held it up and showed it to the crowd.  "Let it be know that from this day on, the girl ShadowCat is my second in command and my heiress to the throne of Scanra after I leave this world.  We have signed it in our own combined bloods, and if anyone attempts to change it, the spell on this document will see that he no longer breathes again."

The crew cheered Rikasa and ShadowCat, shouting "Long live Lord Rikasa!"  and "Long live Lady ShadowCat!"  Nyah watched in fury.  So that was why the little bitch did it!  She only brought Nyah here to get in Rikasa's good graces, so that she could become the next ruler of Scanra!  That little bitch!

Nyah was so busy fuming that she forgot about what was to come next.  Rikasa raised his hand for silence, and it was quickly granted.  "Bring up the recruits!"  he called to a man.  

The man nodded and soon, a group of twenty children marched up the stairs from the lower decks.  Nyah cringed as she watched them, their faces petrified and their legs chained together.  She looked up and realized that the sun had set completely now, and the full moon shone brightly,  giving the whole scene an eerie light.  Rikasa stepped forward and raised his arms.  He began to utter strange words that Nyah had never heard before, and she heard thunder in the distance.  A red aura began to glow around him, and the wind whipped at his robes.  

As his voice grew louder, the words grew stranger.  Lightening flashed and the waves began stirring in protest.  The ceremony had begun.


	17. IGNORE THIS CHAPTER! I SCREWED UP!

Chapter 17 

            George felt the waves growing rougher beneath the little rowboat.  Looking up towards the ship, he saw an eerie red light radiating off of it.  He felt a shiver run through him.  Now was the time to put his plan into action, before things got worse.  Whatever that red light was, it couldn't be good.  The sailor was fiercely pulling at the oars, struggling against the suddenly rough waters.  

            Quicker than lightning, George pulled out one of his hidden knives and pointed it at the man.  They were close enough to where the tip of the blade was a few scarce inches from the sailor's throat.  He dropped the oars and glared at George through squinted eyes.  "Why ya two-timin'—"

            The seaman's protest was cut short as George barked at him.  "Shut up," he growled.  "Stay silent and row.  You make any wrong moves and I swear to the gods I will gut you like a fish."

            The man scowled but begrudgingly grabbed the oars and began to row quickly towards the ship.  In a matter of moments they were at the side, bobbing up and down next to a rope ladder that led up to the dock.  Suddenly, the man's foot flew out and kicked George's hand, sending the knife flying into the water.  The seaman's fist collided with George's jaw, but the king quickly countered with a right cross in the man's temple.  The boat rocked dangerously from side to side as the man fell back heavily in the seat.  He attempted to kick again, but George caught the man's foot and pulled his leg, making him fall off the bench onto the floor.  George hauled the dazed man to his feet and hit him over the head with another one of his daggers.  The sailor fell unconscious to the floor, hitting the bench on his way down.  

            George reached for the ladder and nearly fell as a rolling wave tossed the little boat.  The light was growing stronger now, and he could feel a sort of static cling in the air.  Clutching the slick ropes with both hands, he cautiously pulled himself up the side of the ship.

            When he reached the edge, he peered over.  Rikasa stood across from him on a small platform.  The red light was coming from him, and his eyes were focused upward, where the clouds swirled as turbulently as the ocean did.  ShadowCat stood behind him, and her gold eyes were wide.  The sailors' eyes were fixed on their leader; no one noticed George slip aboard.  He crept behind a stack of barrels, and slowly peered around them.  He scanned the deck, searching for Nyah.  

            He almost missed her, and then his eyes picked up a glint of green.  George saw Nyah down on her knees, her arms chained around an anchor.  She was the only one on deck not watching Rikasa; her head was bowed, and George could see her biting her lip in concentration as she used her Gift to pick the lock binding her hands. 

            A loud clap of thunder blasted from the sky, and George nearly jumped a mile.  The wind began picking up and the ship shook and was tossed about on the waves.  He took another glance at Rikasa and his jaw dropped.  The man's voice was deep and unearthly, rumbling and reverberating.  Red magic streamed from his body, and his hair and robes whipped about him as if they were caught in a tornado.  But is face… his face was twisted in a mixture of agony and sheer joy.  He seemed to be relishing in the obvious pain that the spell brought him.  

George watched, horrified.  The sounds of the winds and thunder were deafening, but Rikasa's voice could be heard over everything, like a demon.  Suddenly, there was a blast of white light and sound that drowned out everything and blinded all.  George and everyone else cried out and shielded their eyes and ears from the sonic explosion.  When the light cleared, George saw the very last thing he expected…

*          *          *

Eric and the rest of the Rogue party were all crammed into the longboat that he had found in the foliage.  They rowed at an unbelievably fast pace, but they were making very slow progress due to the sudden winds that had hit.  None of the Rogue were very experienced oarsmen.  They were city folk, not used to the violence of nature.  Still, they pressed on, forcing themselves to dig the oars into the ocean and pull with all their might to gain an inch.  

Eric himself rowed blindly, but with every once of strength left in him.  The wind blew salt spray into his face, making it impossible to see anything.  He could hear the men grunting as they pulled at the oars.  When he thought his strength was waning, he thought of Nyah, and the surge of adrenaline kicked him into high gear.  

At one point he opened his eyes a bit, the salt burning them.  As he squinted, he could just make out the ship in the distance, about hundred yards away.  The red light that emitted from it pulsed and grew steadily stronger.  "What is that?" he asked Leon, yelling in the man's ear to be heard over the din of the ocean.  

"I don't know!"  Leon shouted back.  "Whatever it is though, it's not good!"

Suddenly, there was a loud blast and the red light became a white flash so blinding, that Eric dropped his oar and covered his eyes.  The other men did the same, and when the light faded, they looked around them in astonishment.  The ocean, which had been so turbulent a moment ago, was now calm and gentle once more.  

"What just happened?" Marek wondered.  

The rest of the Rogue began murmur to each other, but Eric immediately grabbed his oar again.  "Come on!" he yelled.  "Let's move, before it starts up again."

*          *          *

Even with her eyes shut, Nyah could still see the bright light behind her eyelids.  It took all her willpower not to pull her unshackled hands out from behind her back and cover her face.  But if she did, she would ruin her one chance, and so she endured the blinding pain.  

When the light was gone, she opened her eyes and they slowly adjusted to the darkness.  What she saw on the platform shocked her.  ShadowCat stood with a bloody dagger in her right hand.  Rikasa lay on the deck, clutching his left side.  

There was silence on the deck.  Everyone stared at Cat, who was looking at her hand as if it belonged to someone else.   Rikasa moaned and pushed him up onto his knees, then slowly made his way to his feet.  He pulled his hand away from his side and saw the blood soaking his robes.  "You traitor!"  he shouted, his face pale and sweating.

ShadowCat's head snapped up, and her gold eyes glinted, giving off their own light.  The words seemed to snap her back to her reality, and the typical scowl appeared on her face.  "How could I be a traitor?" she asked, her voice low and threatening.  "I was never on ya side."

Rikasa's face was twisted with anger and pain.  "You little wretch!"

"Sorry, 'my lord'," she said as she wiped her dagger and hand off on her clothes.  "But I got my loyalties, and they don' lie with ya."  

Without taking her eyes off of Rikasa, she called out across the deck.  "Nyah, ya all right?"

Nyah tried to speak, but her mouth was too dry.  She nodded, scarcely believing her eyes.  What was going on?  Just whose side was ShadowCat on?  

"I'm sorry about all this, Nyah," she said still not taking his eyes off of Rikasa.  "But ta gain this snake's trust, ya have ta become a snake yourself."  

She began speaking to Rikasa again.  "I've waited seven years ta watch ya die, Rikasa," she hissed, anger dripping from her words like venom.  "And now that day has finally come.  Ya really shouldn' have given me those poisoned blades," he told him, with a small smirk.  

Suddenly, there was an eruption of laughter from the platform.  Tears were running down his face as Rikasa's red magic slowly blossomed around his hand, penetrating his bloody side and healing his wound.  In a matter of seconds, there he stood fully recovered and still laughing.  After a moment, he seemed to collect himself and looked at Cat, his eyes filled with mirth.  "Did you actually think that you could kill me, my dear?" he asked her.  "Look at yourself."  He held out a hand, and a liquid ball of reflective silver appeared and stretched out, forming an oval mirror.  Cat turned and caught her reflection and stared as though she were hypnotized.  

Rikasa began to circle her like a vulture.  His voice took on a harsh, commanding tone.  "You are a weak, thirteen-year-old nobody.  No one loves you, and no one ever will.  You are powerless and worthless in everyone's eyes.  Look at yourself, girl!  You've changed your appearance and aliases so many times, even you don't know who you are any more."   He stood behind her, so that his reflection leered at her as she stared, transfixed by the magic mirror.  "Do you not believe me?"  He brushed her short hair back from her ear.  "I created you, ShadowCat," he whispered into her ear.  "And I can destroy you.  And I will.  Do you understand?"  

Slowly, ShadowCat nodded, mesmerized by the mirror.  

Nyah watched in horror as Rikasa pulled a long knife from the inside of his robes and placed it at the center of Cat's back.  "Good-bye, ShadowCat," he hissed.  

"ShadowCat!"  Nyah screamed the girl's name.  The mirror was hypnotizing her, holding the child entranced.  She would kill herself if she were commanded to.  Nyah checked the lock on her chains, but the noise made one of her guards look down at her with suspicion. 

Rikasa turned and looked at Nyah, annoyed at the interruption.  The crew was still standing on the deck, watching as the drama unfolded before them.  They waited in happy anticipation for the blood, the killing, the death.  "Loch!"  he growled.  "Take care of her, would you?"  

Loch grinned and looked Nyah's body up and down.  "Yes, m'lord!"  He began to approach her from across the deck.  

"Wait!"  Rikasa called on an afterthought.  Loch stopped and looked up with a scowl.  Rikasa turned with an evil smirk to ShadowCat.  "ShadowCat,"  The girl turned, her eyes blank and unblinking.  "Take care of Princess Nyah."

Cat said nothing, only took the dagger from Rikasa's hand and began walking towards Nyah.  "Cat!"  Nyah cried, desperate to snap her from her trance.  She tried to jump up, but her guard saw her move and quickly grasped her shoulders, pinning her down.  

"Cat, it's me!"  The girl continued to walk closer, her blade held loosely in her hand.  "ShadowCat!  It's Nyah!  Come on, kid, I know you can hear me, come on!" she pleaded.  But Cat was deaf to all but Rikasa's voice.  She approached Nyah and held the blade against the young woman's throat.  

Nyah felt a tear roll down her cheek as she look at the child's emotionless gold eyes.  "ShadowCat," she whispered. 

*          *          *

_Kill her.  You must kill Princess Nyah. Do it.  Kill the princess. You must kill the princess.  Do as I command, ShadowCat. _

ShadowCat placed the blade against her throat, her mind controlled completely by Rikasa's spell.  She watched the young woman as she kept calling her name, begging Cat to remember her.  

_You remember nothing.  You don't know this woman.  Kill her.  She means nothing to you.  You mean nothing to her.  You mean do not mean anything to anyone.  Kill her.  Kill her. _

Rikasa's voice sounded in her head.  She heard the young woman—what was her name?—whisper her name one last time.  Cat watched a tear roll down her cheek as she felt the pressure of the blade on her neck.  ShadowCat's eyes watched that tear.  She could feel herself being pulled into in, pulled into her past.  

She was back in Kahanlanda, holding a knife to the same woman's throat, just like she was doing now.

"Gimme the goods, or the dame gets it."

Suddenly one of the men was behind her, holding a blade against her spine.  

"You think you're faster than me?  You think I won't drive this through your spine before you slit her throat?  You willin' to take that chance?"

She jumped high, her abilities pushing her a good seven feet high.  A fight ensued.  She had won, she remembered that.  She won.  Always meant to kill.  Always meant to destroy.  This was just another person to kill.  Just another faceless person.

_"Exactly ShadowCat,"_ Rikasa's voice sounded in her thoughts.  _"She is just another faceless person.  Kill her.  Kill her.  You were always meant to kill, always meant to kill."_

She was ten.  A large man had cornered her.

"Come on, little girl, let's play."

He was drunk, and the stench of ale radiated nauseatingly from his body.

"Don't feel like playin'."

"I don't really care what you feel like, kid."

He closed in on her.  She jumped and slammed her foot into his face.  He reeled backward, and before he could recover, she threw a knife at him.  It landed in his throat, blood spewing everywhere.  She had killed.  She had won.

_"Kill her, ShadowCat."_  Rikasa's thoughts penetrated hers_.  "Listen to me.  Kill her.  She means nothing to you.  You obey me, and only me.  Kill her."_

She stood in an open field, unpacking her shoulder sheaths.  She placed the blades in the sheaths, keeping one eye on the same young woman (Why did she keep appearing?). Cat spun and threw the blades at the young woman—no, wait, at the tree behind her.  The woman ducked and rolled at the last second, and the blades thudded into the tree. 

"Damn it.  Too slow."

"What are you talking about?"

"If I'd done it right, ya'd be dead right now."  

A lie.  She was right on time, her speed perfect.  She wasn't going to kill the woman, but why?  If she were supposed to kill her, then why hadn't she done it then, when the woman was so unsuspecting?

_"What does it matter?  Kill her, ShadowCat.  Kill her now, before I begin to lose my patience."_

She was in the cell onboard the ship.  She and the young woman were tied, back-to-back, to a pole.  What had happened? Why was she tied up with the enemy?  She wasn't a traitor like her.  

" Before ya came, I was seriously considerin' just killin' myself ta be rid of life. But then ya and ya king and ya boyfriend came and ya three were like diamonds in a garbage heap. After ya and I got started, I was more and more wary about goin' north, towards them. But ya seemed so confident that we would be okay, I believed ya. When ya told me about ya past, I was afraid that ya'd wanna know mine. Ya were the first friend, the first person that didn' treat me like I was a dangerous freak, that I didn' want ta tell ya about me. I figured the less I told and the more distant I was, the less ya would be scared of me. Then I could go ta Tortall, start over, make a new life for myself. An honest one, where I wouldn't be lookin' over my shoulder every five seconds, expectin' ta be kidnapped or hit or attacked. I could be free from everythin'.        

            "So now ya know. Ya know every gods damned horrible detail of my life. Ya know why I am the way I am."

            The young woman moved closer to her.

            "Cat…I thought you didn't cry."

            "Only when I'm scared."

            What?  No, no this was all wrong!  She—she didn't cry because she didn't _get_ scared!  She didn't know fear, she didn't know pain.  She never wanted to kill herself, she never wanted to escape.  Her master was Rikasa.  He had taken care of her from birth, made her his daughter.  She was loyal to him and only him.  Wasn't she?

            "Yes, ShadowCat.  You are only loyal to me.  You only know my voice.  You obey my every command.  Kill her.  Kill her, ShadowCat.  That is what you were born to do, the only thing you know how to do.  Kill her, kill her."

            Cat nodded, and began to slowly apply more pressure to the blade.  Just a little more and she would pierce the skin and penetrate the jugular vein, and the kill would be complete.  Her blank, empty eyes caught the woman's emerald ones and held them.  

            She wanted to make the kill.  The need to kill, to feel the warm blood run over her blade and over her hand burned inside her.  She needed to do this like she needed to breath.  So what was stopping her?

            _"Kill her, ShadowCat.  Do it,"_ Rikasa's voice hissed in her head. 

Suddenly there was a new voice, one that drifted through her mind like a cool breeze.  _"ShadowCat…  ShadowCat…"_  the voice whispered.  It sounded like a rushing waterfall, with the lilt of birds and depth of an ocean.  _"ShadowCat.  I know you can hear me.  Come back to us, my child."_

_            "Come back where?" _Cat thought.  

            _"You know where.  You know that this isn't you.  You are more than killing.  You are more than death.  Come back to the light; there is hope for you yet."_

Cat shook her head.  _"There is no hope for me any more," _she thought with a sinking feeling.  _"It is too late for me.  I must kill her.  She is nothing to me.  I am nothing to anyone.  The world is better without me."_

_            "ShadowCat, my child, you know her," _the godlike voice insisted_.  "She comforted you, cared for you, trusted you when no one else would.  Rikasa has poisoned your mind; he has made you think things that are false.  Do not make this mistake, my child."_

_            "Kill her!" _Rikasa's voice practically screamed in her head now.  Cat winced at the tone.  _"Damn it, girl; kill her or I will kill the both of you!  Kill her!"_

Cat seemed to struggle with the decision.  Sweat appeared on her forehead and her free hand began to tremble.  Her breathing became ragged, as if she were desperately fighting Rikasa's hold on her mind.  

            _"Kill her, kill her, KILL HER!!!"_

"NO!!!"  ShadowCat screamed, her voice cracking with emotion.  In one swift movement she pulled the dagger away from Nyah's throat and slammed it into the chest of the man who was guarding her.  Immediately she pulled another blade from her high boot attacked the three other men who stood nearby with their swords at ready.  

*          *          *

            Nyah stared wide-eyed, but only for a moment.  Quick as lightening, she jumped up, grasping the chains that had bound her hands.  She swung them so fast they looked like no more than an iron blur and hit a sailor in the temple, knocking him out cold.  Using the chains, she defended herself and slowly maneuvered her way to the center of the ship.

            At one point, she was pinned against the wall by two sailors as they attacked her.  She whipped her chain around one's throat, but the other slashed at her arm with a dagger, cutting deep.  Adrenaline surged though her though, numbing the pain, and she lashed out viciously with her wounded arm, elbowing the man in  the face.  The other with the chain around his neck flipped her over his back, pulling the makeshift weapon out of her hands.  She fell to the deck with a crash, and flipped over on her back.  She was surrounded by five men, and she was defenseless.  

            Suddenly, from out of nowhere it seemed, two daggers flew out of the night sky and hit two of the men in the backs.  They fell forward and Nyah rolled to one side to dodge their falling bodies.  Not wasting any time, she jumped up and lunged for the two blades.  Plucking them out of the dying men, she wiped the blood off on her breeches, then glanced at the blades.  She knew those blades.  She had bought a set just like them at Midwinter.

            As if on cue, George jumped out from behind a stack of barrels and into the mess.  Nyah's heart leapt into her throat.  Guarding the other's back, they slowly circled, sizing up their opponents. 

            "Nice to see you again," George remarked from behind her.  

            Nyah smiled broadly, knowing that his eyes were sparkling.  "Took your time, didn't you?" she asked him as she locked eyes with her next target. 

            "We got a little lost.  But hey, I'm here now, aren't I?"  he remarked.

            Nyah nodded, though he couldn't see.  "And believe me, you don't know how happy I am to see you."

            With that, they attacked, lunging and slashing with nearly identical styles.  George had taught Nyah nearly everything she knew about knife fighting, and it showed.  Two more fell in front of George, and another in front of Nyah.  

            When they  dispatched of the three, they ducked behind the stack of barrels and faced each other.  Nyah's eyes filled with tears at the sight of those bright hazel eyes.  She grinned as George brushed her braids out of her face.  He gave her a quizzical look.  "You had a lot of time on your hands, didn't you?"  

            She laughed.  "That's exactly what ShadowCat said," she replied.  

"Where is she?" he asked.  They peered out from behind the barrels and saw mayhem on deck.  ShadowCat had leapt up into the rigging and was kicking off anyone who climbed up to reach her.  

"We've got to help her," Nyah said determinedly.  

Before they could come out of their hiding place, ShadowCat took a flying leap of the rigging and flipped twice in midair.  She landed in a crouch in front of the children.  Rising, she stood protectively in front of them.  

"Come on," George said.  The two of them quickly sprinted across the deck and joined Cat on either side.  

Cat looked up at George for a fraction of a second as the thirty some men advanced on them from all sides.  "Nice of ya ta join us, Ya Majesty," she commented.  

"Wouldn't miss this for the world," he replied.  

The three of them watched as the men advanced on them, slowly as if stalking their prey.  Rikasa stood at the bow of the ship, watching the scene with a small smile on his face.  The children stood in a huddle behind them, shivering and watching in panic.  Nyah knew that they were hopelessly outnumbered, but they had to protect the children.  She adjusted her grip on her daggers and blew a braid out of her face.  Sending a quick prayer to the gods, she narrowed her eyes on her first target.  

Suddenly the man that she had chosen as her victim gave a cry and fell forward, three arrows sprouting from his back.  All movement on deck stopped, and everyone turned to see Eric and the eleven other members of the Rogue,  Eric with a fourth arrow knocked on his string.  

*          *          *

Eric watched as the man fell forward to reveal Nyah standing in front of a group of scared children.  His heart leapt in his chest at the sight of his love, but he knew that they weren't out of the woods yet.  Men turned and began running at them, furious that reinforcements had come for George, Nyah, and ShadowCat.  

A fierce battle was soon underway on the deck of the ship.  Eric's anger fueled him, and he began attacking at impossible speeds.  Three men were down in a few minutes, and Eric quickly ran in the direction of Nyah.  When he reached her, she was hurriedly trying to get as many of the children below deck as possible.  ShadowCat was picking off anyone who may try to stop Nyah with a series of flips and knife throws.   All of the other sailors were occupied with Rogue.  

Nyah smiled and tears reached her eyes when she saw him, but she couldn't stop moving the children.  Eric immediately joined ShadowCat, helping her keep Rikasa's men at bay.  He injured one man with his bow, and three more with his knives.  

When all the children were safely down below deck with the rest of the Chihopan people, Nyah ran to Eric and threw her arms around him, kissing him passionately.  "I knew you'd come," she whispered, not caring that at any moment she could be killed for letting her guard down.  

"I missed you so much," he whispered, stroking her hair.  He looked at her lovingly, although  Nyah was much thinner than when he had last seen her, and her face was pale and gaunt.  Her clothes were dirty and torn and hung off her body like limp rags, but still Eric thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.  

"Nyah!  Watch ya back!"  Cat called, throwing a knife at a man who was trying to sneak up behind her. 

Nyah's eyes grew wide at her folly and she spun around, kicking the wounded man in the abdomen, making him fall to the deck, writhing in pain. 

Eric pulled his pouch of throwing stars from his belt and tossed it to Nyah.  She nodded her thanks, then continued to attack.  Love would have to wait until this massacre was through. 


	18. Where Your Loyalites Lie

Chapter 17 

            George felt the waves growing rougher beneath the little rowboat.  Looking up towards the ship, he saw an eerie red light radiating off of it.  He felt a shiver run through him.  Now was the time to put his plan into action, before things got worse.  Whatever that red light was, it couldn't be good.  The sailor was fiercely pulling at the oars, struggling against the suddenly rough waters.  

            Quicker than lightning, George pulled out one of his hidden knives and pointed it at the man.  They were close enough to where the tip of the blade was a few scarce inches from the sailor's throat.  He dropped the oars and glared at George through squinted eyes.  "Why ya two-timin'—"

            The seaman's protest was cut short as George barked at him.  "Shut up," he growled.  "Stay silent and row.  You make any wrong moves and I swear to the gods I will gut you like a fish."

            The man scowled but begrudgingly grabbed the oars and began to row quickly towards the ship.  In a matter of moments they were at the side, bobbing up and down next to a rope ladder that led up to the dock.  Suddenly, the man's foot flew out and kicked George's hand, sending the knife flying into the water.  The seaman's fist collided with George's jaw, but the king quickly countered with a right cross in the man's temple.  The boat rocked dangerously from side to side as the man fell back heavily in the seat.  He attempted to kick again, but George caught the man's foot and pulled his leg, making him fall off the bench onto the floor.  George hauled the dazed man to his feet and hit him over the head with another one of his daggers.  The sailor fell unconscious to the floor, hitting the bench on his way down.  

            George reached for the ladder and nearly fell as a rolling wave tossed the little boat.  The light was growing stronger now, and he could feel a sort of static cling in the air.  Clutching the slick ropes with both hands, he cautiously pulled himself up the side of the ship.

            When he reached the edge, he peered over.  Rikasa stood across from him on a small platform.  The red light was coming from him, and his eyes were focused upward, where the clouds swirled as turbulently as the ocean did.  ShadowCat stood behind him, and her gold eyes were wide.  The sailors' eyes were fixed on their leader; no one noticed George slip aboard.  He crept behind a stack of barrels, and slowly peered around them.  He scanned the deck, searching for Nyah.  

            He almost missed her, and then his eyes picked up a glint of green.  George saw Nyah down on her knees, her arms chained around an anchor.  She was the only one on deck not watching Rikasa; her head was bowed, and George could see her biting her lip in concentration as she used her Gift to pick the lock binding her hands. 

            A loud clap of thunder blasted from the sky, and George nearly jumped a mile.  The wind began picking up and the ship shook and was tossed about on the waves.  He took another glance at Rikasa and his jaw dropped.  The man's voice was deep and unearthly, rumbling and reverberating.  Red magic streamed from his body, and his hair and robes whipped about him as if they were caught in a tornado.  But is face… his face was twisted in a mixture of agony and sheer joy.  He seemed to be relishing in the obvious pain that the spell brought him.  

George watched, horrified.  The sounds of the winds and thunder were deafening, but Rikasa's voice could be heard over everything, like a demon.  Suddenly, there was a blast of white light and sound that drowned out everything and blinded all.  George and everyone else cried out and shielded their eyes and ears from the sonic explosion.  When the light cleared, George saw the very last thing he expected…

*          *          *

Eric and the rest of the Rogue party were all crammed into the longboat that he had found in the foliage.  They rowed at an unbelievably fast pace, but they were making very slow progress due to the sudden winds that had hit.  None of the Rogue were very experienced oarsmen.  They were city folk, not used to the violence of nature.  Still, they pressed on, forcing themselves to dig the oars into the ocean and pull with all their might to gain an inch.  

Eric himself rowed blindly, but with every once of strength left in him.  The wind blew salt spray into his face, making it impossible to see anything.  He could hear the men grunting as they pulled at the oars.  When he thought his strength was waning, he thought of Nyah, and the surge of adrenaline kicked him into high gear.  

At one point he opened his eyes a bit, the salt burning them.  As he squinted, he could just make out the ship in the distance, about hundred yards away.  The red light that emitted from it pulsed and grew steadily stronger.  "What is that?" he asked Leon, yelling in the man's ear to be heard over the din of the ocean.  

"I don't know!"  Leon shouted back.  "Whatever it is though, it's not good!"

Suddenly, there was a loud blast and the red light became a white flash so blinding, that Eric dropped his oar and covered his eyes.  The other men did the same, and when the light faded, they looked around them in astonishment.  The ocean, which had been so turbulent a moment ago, was now calm and gentle once more.  

"What just happened?" Marek wondered.  

The rest of the Rogue began murmur to each other, but Eric immediately grabbed his oar again.  "Come on!" he yelled.  "Let's move, before it starts up again."

*          *          *

Even with her eyes shut, Nyah could still see the bright light behind her eyelids.  It took all her willpower not to pull her unshackled hands out from behind her back and cover her face.  But if she did, she would ruin her one chance, and so she endured the blinding pain.  

When the light was gone, she opened her eyes and they slowly adjusted to the darkness.  What she saw on the platform shocked her.  ShadowCat stood with a bloody dagger in her right hand.  Rikasa lay on the deck, clutching his left side.  

There was silence on the deck.  Everyone stared at Cat, who was looking at her hand as if it belonged to someone else.   Rikasa moaned and pushed him up onto his knees, then slowly made his way to his feet.  He pulled his hand away from his side and saw the blood soaking his robes.  "You traitor!"  he shouted, his face pale and sweating.

ShadowCat's head snapped up, and her gold eyes glinted, giving off their own light.  The words seemed to snap her back to her reality, and the typical scowl appeared on her face.  "How could I be a traitor?" she asked, her voice low and threatening.  "I was never on ya side."

Rikasa's face was twisted with anger and pain.  "You little wretch!"

"Sorry, 'my lord'," she said as she wiped her dagger and hand off on her clothes.  "But I got my loyalties, and they don' lie with ya."  

Without taking her eyes off of Rikasa, she called out across the deck.  "Nyah, ya all right?"

Nyah tried to speak, but her mouth was too dry.  She nodded, scarcely believing her eyes.  What was going on?  Just whose side was ShadowCat on?  

"I'm sorry about all this, Nyah," she said still not taking his eyes off of Rikasa.  "But ta gain this snake's trust, ya have ta become a snake yourself."  

She began speaking to Rikasa again.  "I've waited seven years ta watch ya die, Rikasa," she hissed, anger dripping from her words like venom.  "And now that day has finally come.  Ya really shouldn' have given me those poisoned blades," he told him, with a small smirk.  

Suddenly, there was an eruption of laughter from the platform.  Tears were running down his face as Rikasa's red magic slowly blossomed around his hand, penetrating his bloody side and healing his wound.  In a matter of seconds, there he stood fully recovered and still laughing.  After a moment, he seemed to collect himself and looked at Cat, his eyes filled with mirth.  "Did you actually think that you could kill me, my dear?" he asked her.  "Look at yourself."  He held out a hand, and a liquid ball of reflective silver appeared and stretched out, forming an oval mirror.  Cat turned and caught her reflection and stared as though she were hypnotized.  

Rikasa began to circle her like a vulture.  His voice took on a harsh, commanding tone.  "You are a weak, thirteen-year-old nobody.  No one loves you, and no one ever will.  You are powerless and worthless in everyone's eyes.  Look at yourself, girl!  You've changed your appearance and aliases so many times, even you don't know who you are any more."   He stood behind her, so that his reflection leered at her as she stared, transfixed by the magic mirror.  "Do you not believe me?"  He brushed her short hair back from her ear.  "I created you, ShadowCat," he whispered into her ear.  "And I can destroy you.  And I will.  Do you understand?"  

Slowly, ShadowCat nodded, mesmerized by the mirror.  

Nyah watched in horror as Rikasa pulled a long knife from the inside of his robes and placed it at the center of Cat's back.  "Good-bye, ShadowCat," he hissed.  

"ShadowCat!"  Nyah screamed the girl's name.  The mirror was hypnotizing her, holding the child entranced.  She would kill herself if she were commanded to.  Nyah checked the lock on her chains, but the noise made one of her guards look down at her with suspicion. 

Rikasa turned and looked at Nyah, annoyed at the interruption.  The crew was still standing on the deck, watching as the drama unfolded before them.  They waited in happy anticipation for the blood, the killing, the death.  "Loch!"  he growled.  "Take care of her, would you?"  

Loch grinned and looked Nyah's body up and down.  "Yes, m'lord!"  He began to approach her from across the deck.  

"Wait!"  Rikasa called on an afterthought.  Loch stopped and looked up with a scowl.  Rikasa turned with an evil smirk to ShadowCat.  "ShadowCat,"  The girl turned, her eyes blank and unblinking.  "Take care of Princess Nyah."

Cat said nothing, only took the dagger from Rikasa's hand and began walking towards Nyah.  "Cat!"  Nyah cried, desperate to snap her from her trance.  She tried to jump up, but her guard saw her move and quickly grasped her shoulders, pinning her down.  

"Cat, it's me!"  The girl continued to walk closer, her blade held loosely in her hand.  "ShadowCat!  It's Nyah!  Come on, kid, I know you can hear me, come on!" she pleaded.  But Cat was deaf to all but Rikasa's voice.  She approached Nyah and held the blade against the young woman's throat.  

Nyah felt a tear roll down her cheek as she look at the child's emotionless gold eyes.  "ShadowCat," she whispered. 

*          *          *

_Kill her.  You must kill Princess Nyah. Do it.  Kill the princess. You must kill the princess.  Do as I command, ShadowCat. _

ShadowCat placed the blade against her throat, her mind controlled completely by Rikasa's spell.  She watched the young woman as she kept calling her name, begging Cat to remember her.  

_You remember nothing.  You don't know this woman.  Kill her.  She means nothing to you.  You mean nothing to her.  You mean do not mean anything to anyone.  Kill her.  Kill her. _

Rikasa's voice sounded in her head.  She heard the young woman—what was her name?—whisper her name one last time.  Cat watched a tear roll down her cheek as she felt the pressure of the blade on her neck.  ShadowCat's eyes watched that tear.  She could feel herself being pulled into in, pulled into her past.  

She was back in Kahanlanda, holding a knife to the same woman's throat, just like she was doing now.

"Gimme the goods, or the dame gets it."

Suddenly one of the men was behind her, holding a blade against her spine.  

"You think you're faster than me?  You think I won't drive this through your spine before you slit her throat?  You willin' to take that chance?"

She jumped high, her abilities pushing her a good seven feet high.  A fight ensued.  She had won, she remembered that.  She won.  Always meant to kill.  Always meant to destroy.  This was just another person to kill.  Just another faceless person.

_"Exactly ShadowCat,"_ Rikasa's voice sounded in her thoughts.  _"She is just another faceless person.  Kill her.  Kill her.  You were always meant to kill, always meant to kill."_

She was ten.  A large man had cornered her.

"Come on, little girl, let's play."

He was drunk, and the stench of ale radiated nauseatingly from his body.

"Don't feel like playin'."

"I don't really care what you feel like, kid."

He closed in on her.  She jumped and slammed her foot into his face.  He reeled backward, and before he could recover, she threw a knife at him.  It landed in his throat, blood spewing everywhere.  She had killed.  She had won.

_"Kill her, ShadowCat."_  Rikasa's thoughts penetrated hers_.  "Listen to me.  Kill her.  She means nothing to you.  You obey me, and only me.  Kill her."_

She stood in an open field, unpacking her shoulder sheaths.  She placed the blades in the sheaths, keeping one eye on the same young woman (Why did she keep appearing?). Cat spun and threw the blades at the young woman—no, wait, at the tree behind her.  The woman ducked and rolled at the last second, and the blades thudded into the tree. 

"Damn it.  Too slow."

"What are you talking about?"

"If I'd done it right, ya'd be dead right now."  

A lie.  She was right on time, her speed perfect.  She wasn't going to kill the woman, but why?  If she were supposed to kill her, then why hadn't she done it then, when the woman was so unsuspecting?

_"What does it matter?  Kill her, ShadowCat.  Kill her now, before I begin to lose my patience."_

She was in the cell onboard the ship.  She and the young woman were tied, back-to-back, to a pole.  What had happened? Why was she tied up with the enemy?  She wasn't a traitor like her.  

" Before ya came, I was seriously considerin' just killin' myself ta be rid of life. But then ya and ya king and ya boyfriend came and ya three were like diamonds in a garbage heap. After ya and I got started, I was more and more wary about goin' north, towards them. But ya seemed so confident that we would be okay, I believed ya. When ya told me about ya past, I was afraid that ya'd wanna know mine. Ya were the first friend, the first person that didn' treat me like I was a dangerous freak, that I didn' want ta tell ya about me. I figured the less I told and the more distant I was, the less ya would be scared of me. Then I could go ta Tortall, start over, make a new life for myself. An honest one, where I wouldn't be lookin' over my shoulder every five seconds, expectin' ta be kidnapped or hit or attacked. I could be free from everythin'.        

            "So now ya know. Ya know every gods damned horrible detail of my life. Ya know why I am the way I am."

            The young woman moved closer to her.

            "Cat…I thought you didn't cry."

            "Only when I'm scared."

            What?  No, no this was all wrong!  She—she didn't cry because she didn't _get_ scared!  She didn't know fear, she didn't know pain.  She never wanted to kill herself, she never wanted to escape.  Her master was Rikasa.  He had taken care of her from birth, made her his daughter.  She was loyal to him and only him.  Wasn't she?

            "Yes, ShadowCat.  You are only loyal to me.  You only know my voice.  You obey my every command.  Kill her.  Kill her, ShadowCat.  That is what you were born to do, the only thing you know how to do.  Kill her, kill her."

            Cat nodded, and began to slowly apply more pressure to the blade.  Just a little more and she would pierce the skin and penetrate the jugular vein, and the kill would be complete.  Her blank, empty eyes caught the woman's emerald ones and held them.  

            She wanted to make the kill.  The need to kill, to feel the warm blood run over her blade and over her hand burned inside her.  She needed to do this like she needed to breath.  So what was stopping her?

            _"Kill her, ShadowCat.  Do it,"_ Rikasa's voice hissed in her head. 

Suddenly there was a new voice, one that drifted through her mind like a cool breeze.  _"ShadowCat…  ShadowCat…"_  the voice whispered.  It sounded like a rushing waterfall, with the lilt of birds and depth of an ocean.  _"ShadowCat.  I know you can hear me.  Come back to us, my child."_

_            "Come back where?" _Cat thought.  

            _"You know where.  You know that this isn't you.  You are more than killing.  You are more than death.  Come back to the light; there is hope for you yet."_

Cat shook her head.  _"There is no hope for me any more," _she thought with a sinking feeling.  _"It is too late for me.  I must kill her.  She is nothing to me.  I am nothing to anyone.  The world is better without me."_

_            "ShadowCat, my child, you know her," _the godlike voice insisted_.  "She comforted you, cared for you, trusted you when no one else would.  Rikasa has poisoned your mind; he has made you think things that are false.  Do not make this mistake, my child."_

_            "Kill her!" _Rikasa's voice practically screamed in her head now.  Cat winced at the tone.  _"Damn it, girl; kill her or I will kill the both of you!  Kill her!"_

Cat seemed to struggle with the decision.  Sweat appeared on her forehead and her free hand began to tremble.  Her breathing became ragged, as if she were desperately fighting Rikasa's hold on her mind.  

            _"Kill her, kill her, KILL HER!!!"_

"NO!!!"  ShadowCat screamed, her voice cracking with emotion.  In one swift movement she pulled the dagger away from Nyah's throat and slammed it into the chest of the man who was guarding her.  Immediately she pulled another blade from her high boot attacked the three other men who stood nearby with their swords at ready.  

*          *          *

            Nyah stared wide-eyed, but only for a moment.  Quick as lightening, she jumped up, grasping the chains that had bound her hands.  She swung them so fast they looked like no more than an iron blur and hit a sailor in the temple, knocking him out cold.  Using the chains, she defended herself and slowly maneuvered her way to the center of the ship.

            At one point, she was pinned against the wall by two sailors as they attacked her.  She whipped her chain around one's throat, but the other slashed at her arm with a dagger, cutting deep.  Adrenaline surged though her though, numbing the pain, and she lashed out viciously with her wounded arm, elbowing the man in  the face.  The other with the chain around his neck flipped her over his back, pulling the makeshift weapon out of her hands.  She fell to the deck with a crash, and flipped over on her back.  She was surrounded by five men, and she was defenseless.  

            Suddenly, from out of nowhere it seemed, two daggers flew out of the night sky and hit two of the men in the backs.  They fell forward and Nyah rolled to one side to dodge their falling bodies.  Not wasting any time, she jumped up and lunged for the two blades.  Plucking them out of the dying men, she wiped the blood off on her breeches, then glanced at the blades.  She knew those blades.  She had bought a set just like them at Midwinter.

            As if on cue, George jumped out from behind a stack of barrels and into the mess.  Nyah's heart leapt into her throat.  Guarding the other's back, they slowly circled, sizing up their opponents. 

            "Nice to see you again," George remarked from behind her.  

            Nyah smiled broadly, knowing that his eyes were sparkling.  "Took your time, didn't you?" she asked him as she locked eyes with her next target. 

            "We got a little lost.  But hey, I'm here now, aren't I?"  he remarked.

            Nyah nodded, though he couldn't see.  "And believe me, you don't know how happy I am to see you."

            With that, they attacked, lunging and slashing with nearly identical styles.  George had taught Nyah nearly everything she knew about knife fighting, and it showed.  Two more fell in front of George, and another in front of Nyah.  

            When they  dispatched of the three, they ducked behind the stack of barrels and faced each other.  Nyah's eyes filled with tears at the sight of those bright hazel eyes.  She grinned as George brushed her braids out of her face.  He gave her a quizzical look.  "You had a lot of time on your hands, didn't you?"  

            She laughed.  "That's exactly what ShadowCat said," she replied.  

"Where is she?" he asked.  They peered out from behind the barrels and saw mayhem on deck.  ShadowCat had leapt up into the rigging and was kicking off anyone who climbed up to reach her.  

"We've got to help her," Nyah said determinedly.  

Before they could come out of their hiding place, ShadowCat took a flying leap of the rigging and flipped twice in midair.  She landed in a crouch in front of the children.  Rising, she stood protectively in front of them.  

"Come on," George said.  The two of them quickly sprinted across the deck and joined Cat on either side.  

Cat looked up at George for a fraction of a second as the thirty some men advanced on them from all sides.  "Nice of ya ta join us, Ya Majesty," she commented.  

"Wouldn't miss this for the world," he replied.  

The three of them watched as the men advanced on them, slowly as if stalking their prey.  Rikasa stood at the bow of the ship, watching the scene with a small smile on his face.  The children stood in a huddle behind them, shivering and watching in panic.  Nyah knew that they were hopelessly outnumbered, but they had to protect the children.  She adjusted her grip on her daggers and blew a braid out of her face.  Sending a quick prayer to the gods, she narrowed her eyes on her first target.  

Suddenly the man that she had chosen as her victim gave a cry and fell forward, three arrows sprouting from his back.  All movement on deck stopped, and everyone turned to see Eric and the eleven other members of the Rogue,  Eric with a fourth arrow knocked on his string.  

*          *          *

Eric watched as the man fell forward to reveal Nyah standing in front of a group of scared children.  His heart leapt in his chest at the sight of his love, but he knew that they weren't out of the woods yet.  Men turned and began running at them, furious that reinforcements had come for George, Nyah, and ShadowCat.  

A fierce battle was soon underway on the deck of the ship.  Eric's anger fueled him, and he began attacking at impossible speeds.  Three men were down in a few minutes, and Eric quickly ran in the direction of Nyah.  When he reached her, she was hurriedly trying to get as many of the children below deck as possible.  ShadowCat was picking off anyone who may try to stop Nyah with a series of flips and knife throws.   All of the other sailors were occupied with Rogue.  

Nyah smiled and tears reached her eyes when she saw him, but she couldn't stop moving the children.  Eric immediately joined ShadowCat, helping her keep Rikasa's men at bay.  He injured one man with his bow, and three more with his knives.  

When all the children were safely down below deck with the rest of the Chihopan people, Nyah ran to Eric and threw her arms around him, kissing him passionately.  "I knew you'd come," she whispered, not caring that at any moment she could be killed for letting her guard down.  

"I missed you so much," he whispered, stroking her hair.  He looked at her lovingly, although  Nyah was much thinner than when he had last seen her, and her face was pale and gaunt.  Her clothes were dirty and torn and hung off her body like limp rags, but still Eric thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.  

"Nyah!  Watch ya back!"  Cat called, throwing a knife at a man who was trying to sneak up behind her. 

Nyah's eyes grew wide at her folly and she spun around, kicking the wounded man in the abdomen, making him fall to the deck, writhing in pain. 

Eric pulled his pouch of throwing stars from his belt and tossed it to Nyah.  She nodded her thanks, then continued to attack.  Love would have to wait until this massacre was through. 


	19. Living Life, Come What May

Chapter 19

            ShadowCat helped the last child down the steps and shut the hatch quickly.  Now that they were safe, it was time to get personal.  She turned…and was nearly cut in two by a broadsword-swinging sailor.  Glaring at him, she kicked him in the stomach, then kicked the sword out of his hand.  He growled and pulled a dagger on her, backing her towards the mast with his wild, unpredictable swings.  Cat took a fleeting glance behind her, then turned and sprinted to the other side of the tall mast.  Grabbing a hold of the thick wooden pole with both hands, she felt her feet lifted off the ground as she spun parallel to the ground and kicked the man upside the head.  Her second time around she let go and flew feet first at him, knocking him to the ground.  

            Cat stood and brushed herself off.  Looking up, she searched the deck for Rikasa, but with all the members of the Rogue and Rikasa's soldiers fighting, it was nearly impossible to see anything across the ship.  Cat looked up at the tall mast that was connected to other smaller ones by webs of rigging.  Small pegs went up the main mast, leading towards the crow's nest.  Maybe from up there she could see where the wizard was.  Grabbing hold of the first peg with her hand, she began the climb, pulling herself up above the battle.  

*          *          *

            Nyah and Eric were keeping themselves busy with the three men in front of them, when she heard Rikasa's panicked voice from somewhere across the deck.  "She's gone up the mast!  Get her you fools!"  

            Nyah turned her head to the main mast and saw Cat about fifteen feet up the main mast of the ship, a black dot quickly scaling the pole like a monkey.  Suddenly, Nyah felt a sharp pain on her upper right arm, snapping her attention back to the ground.  A man stood before her, holding a knife with her blood dripping from it.  Ignoring the pain in her arm, she tightened her grip on the blade and lunged toward him, deftly blocking strikes and taking the offensive.  Nyah could see the anger in his eyes quickly become a look of fear as she pressed him back against the low railing of the deck.  She feigned a blow at his head, then, while his arm was up blocking, she swung low with her elbow and slammed him in the gut.  He grabbed his stomach in pain, and she grabbed him and hauled him overboard, watching with satisfaction as he splashed into the salty sea. 

            Another burst of pain shot through her arm, and Nyah turned her head and studied the wound.  It was deep and would probably require stitches later.  For now, she ducked behind a stack of barrels and sliced a strip of cloth from her pants, creating a slit that went up to her knee.  She wrapped it around her upper arm tightly, applying pressure to the wound to stop the blood flow.  Holding the bandage in her teeth, she tied the strip securely.  

            Jumping up, she surveyed the deck when her eyes spotted Leon.  The muscular man was back into a corner by four sailors who were each as big as he.  Leon swung his large oak staff and clubbed one in the head, but he was fighting a losing battle.  An idea came to Nyah and she furiously began kicking the barrel at the bottom of the stack, but it wouldn't budge.  "Damn it!  Move!"  she cried in frustration.

            "Come on girlie,"  a low voice rumbled from behind her.  "Let's dance."

            Nyah turned and saw yet another sailor lunge at her.  She fumbled for her blade, but her hands were slick with sweat and blood.  He dove for her and she jumped out of the way.  The man tumbled into the stack of barrels, which toppled with a great crash and rolled across the deck, knocking over people left and right.  The men who were attacking Leon were bowled over by the heavy barrels, and Leon looked up in surprise.  

            Nyah was as shocked as he was.  "That works," she commented.  

            She heard Rikasa's voice again, amplified by magic to make himself heard above the battle.  "Get that wrench!  Get the girl on the mast you fools, the main mast!"  

            Many of Rikasa's men turned and ran towards the mast.  Nyah watched in horror as Cat, an easy target, desperately scrambled up the pole, while three of the men below whipped out crossbows and loaded their arrows.

*          *          *

            ShadowCat heard the pinging of arrows against the mast and began to climb faster.  She was only ten more feet from the crow's nest.  One arrow whistled by her ear and another barely grazed her cheek.  She could feel the blood trickle down her face and her arms were growing tired.  Another arrow flew by and nearly impaled her left hand.  She let go in surprise and her feet slipped out from under her.  For a brief moment, she thought she was falling to her doom, but a sudden, painful wrench of her right shoulder told her that her right hand was still holding on to the peg.  

            Cat knew she was a sitting duck where she was, just dangling from the mast.  Looking around frantically, she saw the mess of ropes hanging from the smaller masts about ten feet to her left.  It was a long jump, but she was confidant she could make it.  Taking a deep breath, she kicked off against the mast, once, twice, and on the third time, she leapt off the mast and for a split second, she swore she could fly.  The wind rushed past her face, whistling in her ears and rippling her hair and clothes.  She closed her eyes and felt tears slide through the corners,  up past her temples and into her hairline.  _So this is what it's like to fly,_ she thought dimly.  

            Then, just as quickly as the sensation had come, it was over and Cat's eyes snapped open.  Reaching out, she snatched a rope that hung from the rigging and swung on it.  The momentum of her fall sent her flying out of the range of the arrows and across the deck.  From her point above the fray, she could see Rikasa at the bow of the ship, on the forecastle deck, where the wheelhouse was located.  Swinging like a monkey, Cat reached the end of her rope and jumped, flying through the air.  She flipped twice and landed in a crouch at Rikasa's feet.

            Cat looked up at him from her position on the ground, her hair messily falling from her face.  "Let's finish this," she said quietly.  "Once an' for all."   So saying, she rose slowly and drew her long sword.  The tapered steel shimmered in the moonlight, which shone near as bright as the sun had.  All could see clearly, and Cat saw from the corner of  her eye as several members of the Rogue, Nyah and George included, rushed up to the forecastle deck to help.  

            "Stop!"  she called out to them, never taking her eyes off Rikasa.  "It's my turn."

            A rumble of thunder sounded in the distance as Rikasa studied her, then a small grin came to his face.  "Gladly, little ShadowCat.  There is nothing I would like more than to end one of  your nine lives."  He drew his sword and held it up in a ready position.  "Ladies first, my dear," he offered with a small bow.  

            "With pleasure,"  Cat growled and leapt at the tyrant with the fury of a tigress.  Her sword was nothing more than a flashing sliver arc as it whipped from his head to his side with the all the skill of a trained and battle-hardened knight.  Rikasa was forced to take the defensive as he barely blocked her violent attacks.  Cat thrust her sword at his abdomen, but Rikasa knocked it away and swung towards her head.  Thunder crashed as Cat whipped her blade up and blocked his with such force that sparks flew, catching her feral golden eyes. 

            "This is ya fault," she informed him as she swung her blade around again, nearly chopping  off his ear.  "Ya made me this way.  I'm just doin' what I was taught."

            "What would that be?" Rikasa asked, anger choking his voice.  "Mutiny?"

            Cat didn't respond, merely twisted her sword around and thrust it toward his chest.  The tip ripped part of his shirt away and left a scratch on his pale chest.  The thunder had grown louder now, and lightening flashed, striking close to the ship.  The wind whipped at the sails, tossing the ship precariously.

            "Give up yet?" she asked as she pulled her blade back into the guard position.  

            Rikasa smiled.  "My dear,  you must not have learned much under my tutelage.  I never give up."

             Cat was about to respond, when suddenly, something burned like fire in her left side.  She dropped to her knees in pain, clutching her side.  She slowly removed her hand and saw the blood gushing from a deep knife wound.  Rikasa smiled and sheathed his sword.  "Well done, Loch," he said to the man who had snuck up behind Cat with a long knife.  

            Rikasa looked down at Cat.  "How does it feel?"  he asked her.  "How does it feel to literally be stabbed in the back?"  When she didn't respond, Rikasa kicked her in her injured side, causing her to fall to the deck, gasping in pain.  "How does it feel?" he hissed angrily.  

            Cat glared at him, sweat from the battle and the pain pouring down her face.  Her side burned like fire, and her hand wasn't helping staunch the blood.  "Ya son of a—" she hissed through gritted teeth.

            "Now, now my dear."  Rikasa made a tsking noise with his tongue.  "Language.  After all, all's fair in love and war.  I must say, a valiant effort on your part, but really now, did you honestly think that you had a chance?"

            Rikasa took the long knife that Loch held out to him and walked behind Cat. Grabbing her by the  hair, he hauled her up and held her there.  He placed the blade at her throat and leaned close to her ear.  "I taught you everything you know, ShadowCat.  Here's a final lesson:  the student will never surpass the master."

            Suddenly, something ignited inside ShadowCat, almost as if a fire was lit inside her.  Her golden eyes glinted, and, with the strength of someone three times her size, she twisted away from his grasp.  Quick as lightening, she swung her leg out and kicked Rikasa's feet out from under him.  He fell to the deck with a thud, and the knife flew from his grasp.  Cat snatched it out of midair and launched it at Loch before the man had a chance to move.  The blade lodged itself in his chest and he fell to the deck, dead.  

Picking up her fallen sword, Cat walked towards Rikasa, wincing only slightly at the tremendous pain in her side.  He lay on the ground, dazed by the sudden turn of events.  When Cat looked into his eyes, she saw an emotion that she had never seen before.  Fear was written all over Rikasa's face.  He crawled backwards on his hands, but Cat reached out and pinned him down with her foot.  Her boot rested heavily on his chest, and she could feel his ragged breathing.  

"Come now ShadowCat," he said, fear showing through for the first time ever in his voice.  "You wouldn't kill a man while he's down."

"When I was eleven, the first man ya had me kill was asleep in his bed with his wife, and his kids were right across the hall," she reminded him coldly.  The blood from her side covered her hand, making her sword difficult hold.  She adjusted her grip.

Rikasa licked his lips nervously.  "Yes, but this is different," he said desperately. 

"How?" she asked him.  "After all, isn't 'all fair in love and war'?" 

"You're right," he replied.  "It is!"  Grabbing her foot, he twisted.  She fell and scrambled back up again, but Rikasa had her sword up before she could grab it.  

"You just can't win, can  you?" he laughed.  "You try and you try, but you just can't win."  Another clap of thunder sounded, and lightening flashed, illuminating the maniacal features of Rikasa's face.  The wind whipped around his black robes, making him look like an angry black bird.  He twisted the sword towards her and placed the tip of the blade at her throat.  "And now,"  he said menacingly.  "It ends!"  

Suddenly the ship rocked violently, pitching Rikasa forward into Cat's arms.  Cat twisted the sword out of his grasp and, with the quickness of a viper, struck him through the heart.  Rikasa's eyes grew wide and he stumbled backwards, the sword still stuck through him like an extra extremity.  He grasped the handle in an attempt to pull it out, but fell forward on his knees in front of ShadowCat, who had her right hand pressed against her bloody side.  "I win,"  she informed him gravely.  Rikasa gawked for a moment more, then collapsed upon the ground, dead.  

            It was over, and this time, ShadowCat had won for good.  

*          *          *

When Rikasa died, nearly all action on the deck had stopped.  Nyah had longed to go up there to help the girl, but this was something Cat had to do on her own.  At least, that was what she said.  Besides, Nyah was busy with the man in front of her.  The battle was hard, and she didn't know how many of her people were wounded or—gods forbid—killed, but she could tell that the Rogue was starting to get the upper hand.  

            For a split second when Cat ran Rikasa through, there was silence on the deck.  The only sounds that could be heard were the loud rumblings of thunder, of a natural storm this time.  Then, realizing their leader was gone, the remainder of Rikasa's men panicked.  They began to run to the sides of the ship, battling each other for the longboats.  A few of the  more desperate ones jumped over the sides of the ship into the stormy seas.  "Don't let them escape!"  Nyah heard George command his Rogue.  

             In a matter of minutes, Nyah and the rest of the Rogue had captured the twenty or so members that were left of Rikasa's crew.  As the rest of the Rogue bound their captors and placed them in the brig, Nyah looked around for Cat.  When the fighting started up again, Nyah had lost track of the girl.

It was dark now, and the once bright moon was hidden behind storm clouds.  Nyah scanned the dark deck, and a flash of lightening illuminated her sight.  For a split second, she saw clearly a small huddled form on the deck.  "Oh no…" Nyah whispered under her breath.  Calling a ball of emerald light to her hand, she used it to guide her way up the deck.  When she got close, she could see that it was ShadowCat, on her knees and doubled up in pain.  "Hey, Cat," Nyah said gently. "Are you all right?"

Cat didn't respond, just groaned a little.  Nyah crouched down next to the girl and gently lifted her head up.  Her face was ashen, and her golden eyes were glassy.  "Cat…" Nyah asked, fear creeping into her voice, "What happened?"  

"Nothin'," she whispered, her voice hoarse.  "Jus'… jus' got a little surprise.  That's all,"  her voice was strained with pain.  Nyah noticed the girl's right hand clutching her side, and she reached down and gently pulled it away to find a palm covered in warm red blood.  She gasped in shock and looked at the wound.  It was a deadly gash, one that was at least, four inches from top to bottom and was gushing crimson blood.  She was unable to tell how deep it was, but the bloody knife that lay near them on the deck was six inches long.  The stain of fresh blood went all the way up to the hilt.  

"Gods…" Nyah exhaled.  Looking up, she hollered to anyone who might hear.  "Someone help!" she cried.  "Help!"

Nyah quickly hacked off the other part of her already slashed pant leg with her dagger. "Gods Cat, why didn't you tell me?"  she asked the girl as she gently leaned her back.  ShadowCat didn't respond, just moaned as she was shifted into a new position.  Nyah placed the girl's head in her lap and pressed the wad of cloth against the wound.  Cat winced and bit her lip in pain, but refused to cry out.  

            Nyah heard running footsteps on the wooden planks behind her, and she turned her head to see George, Eric, and Rispah behind her.  Rispah had a bruise forming around her right eye, and her hair had flown wildly out of its circlet. George and Eric both had various cuts and scrapes, but other than that, they appeared to be fine.  It was ShadowCat that worried Nyah most.  

            "What's the matter?"  George asked Nyah.  

            "It's Cat," Nyah told him, not taking her eyes of the girl.  "She was stabbed in the side by one of Rikasa's men.  She's losing blood fast, and I can't stop it."

            Rispah knelt down next to Nyah and pulled the blood soaked cloth away from Cat's side.  The woman inhaled sharply and quickly replaced the cloth, pressing hard against the girl's side.  Cat gasped in pain, and sweat poured off her face.  "Is there a healer on board that isn't dead?" she asked Nyah, trying to keep her voice light for Cat's sake, though Nyah could see the seriousness in Rispah's eyes.  

            Nyah ransacked her brain, then turned to Eric.  "Down below deck, with the Chihopans, there's an old man with a long gray beard and hair and green eyes.  Go and tell him that Nyah needs him."  Eric nodded, turned, and bolted to the other side of the deck where he disappeared down the hatch.

            Another crash of thunder sounded, and rain began to fall, slowly at first, in fat drops.  Nyah absently stroked Cat's hair out of her pale face.  Her eyes were focused intently on the open hatch, waiting for Eric to return with her father.   

"Did—did I kill him?"  Cat asked, her voice a half-whisper.

Nyah turned back to the girl and gave a half-hearted grin.  "You got a lot of them.  You'll have to be a little more specific."

"The only one… that mattered," ShadowCat replied with a shaky breath.  She was losing strength fast, and Nyah anxiously wondered where her father was.  

"Yeah.  Rikasa's gone for good this time," she told Cat as she glanced over at the evil man's dead body, the sword still protruding from his chest. 

Cat slowly, painfully turned her head and saw her former tormentor.  The rain fell heavily on his body, making a river of red blood that flowed down the deck.  She wondered vaguely if her own wound was making another red river.  "I guess…" she said softly, "that makes me…the new ruler of the Rebels."  She turned her head back and looked up in Nyah's emerald eyes.  "Too bad I won' be able ta live long enough ta break 'em up."

"Come on kid, don't talk like that," George said gently as he knelt down beside her and grasped her cold hand.  "You'll be fine, you'll see."

ShadowCat gave a short, hollow laugh, which turned into a cough.  "Don'… don' lie ta a liar, Ya Majesty," she replied, her voice raspy.  "Some… somehow, I think this is my ninth life."  

Nyah heard wet footsteps splashing across the deck and saw her father and Eric approaching.  "What happened?" her father asked when he reached them.  

Nyah quickly related the events of the fight, and George moved over to make room for him.  Ever so gently, Nyah's father pulled away the bloody rag and cut away the part of the girl's shirt that hid the wound.  The knife had pierced through her ribcage, breaking two or three ribs and severing muscles. 

ShadowCat began coughing again, and a fleck of blood appeared at the corner of her mouth.  She turned her head and spat out a mouthful of blood on the deck.  "There's nothing I can do," Nyah's father whispered to his daughter so that Cat wouldn't panic.  "The blade must have punctured her lung.  I'm so sorry, my daughter."

At the words "my daughter", Eric, George, and Rispah's eyes grew wide, but Nyah didn't notice.  She was staring at the dying girl in shock.  She heard what her father had said, and slowly, her mind processed what exactly that meant.  ShadowCat's lungs would fill with fluid until she could no longer breathe.  She would drown from the inside in her own blood.  Nyah couldn't imagine such a horrible death.  Tears glistened in Nyah's eyes.

"Nyah…Nyah I wanted ta tell ya somethin'."  Cat's voice broke Nyah's train of thought.  The child's voice was no more than a whisper now, and her face was pale and sweating despite the rain that hit her.  Nyah could feel her small body trembling in her lap, and she pulled the girl the rest of the way into her arms and held her tightly.  She wasn't sure if she was shaking from the wound, cold, or fear. 

"I wanted… ta… ta thank ya for everythin'," she continued.  "I know I haven't…"—here she winced in pain and began to cough, spitting up more blood than the last time—"I haven't been the best…best partner, but I wanted ta thank ya for the chance."

Nyah shook her head violently, sending drops of rain flying from her hair.  "No Cat, you were—_are­—_wonderful.  I couldn't have asked for a better companion."

Cat had to stop for a moment to catch her breath. "Don'… don' forget about me, okay?" she asked Nyah worriedly.  After all, the only people that she had ever known were either dead or cruel.  They would forget about her as soon as she was gone and probably wouldn't care if she died in the first place.

"I could never forget about you, Cat," Nyah told her, tears falling freely down her face.  "Please, just hold on.  We can get you to a healer, just hold on," she begged the girl.

But ShadowCat shook her head and closed her eyes.  "It's too late, ya know that."

"The healer in Salt Harbor," Nyah grasped at any shard of hope she could find.   "Sarah Miller.  She can help you if you just hold on, Cat.  Come on, you can do it."

For a split second, ShadowCat's old fire came back into her eyes.  The golden orbs flashed and seemed to give off their own light for one final time.  "Stop pretendin', Nyah!" Cat replied angrily.  She was cut off by a coughing fit that shook her whole body.  When she spat out the blood, Nyah saw tears flowing freely from the child's eyes.  

"Don' leave me," she whispered fearfully to the young woman.  She clutched at Nyah's shirt with her hand and held it in a weak grip.  "Please don' leave me."

"I'm not going to leave you," Nyah reassured her as she held the cold hand tightly.  "I won't ever leave you."

"I won' leave ya either," the girl said defiantly.  Her voice was so soft now that Nyah had to lean in close to hear it over the pattering of the rain.  She could tell the girl was fighting the death that wanted to take her.  "I…I'll always be in ya…ya heart."

Nyah couldn't speak as she watched the girl take a last shuddering breath.  She could feel herself choking on her tears, and she held ShadowCat's hand to her cheek.  In her last moment of life, ShadowCat looked up at Nyah and locked her golden eyes with Nyah's emerald green ones.  In the moment, all time seemed to slow and it seemed to last an eternity.  And yet, an eternity wasn't long enough.  In that last second, Nyah could almost hear ShadowCat's voice inside her mind:  "_Thank ya."_

Then, ShadowCat's eyes closed, and her chest stopped moving.  Nyah felt the girl's grip slacken and she knew that ShadowCat was dead.  She knew, but she didn't want to believe.  She felt a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she didn't care who it was.  ShadowCat was dead. How?  She was only thirteen, she had so much  more to live for.  They were going to go to Tortall after the battle.  She was going to straighten her life out, start over.  That was what she had talked about nearly everyday since they had started out on their journey, nearly three months ago.  Had it been that long?  Long, but at the same time, so short a time to bond with the girl.  She was almost like a younger sister, but she had been through so much more in her life.

It was Rikasa's fault, Nyah remembered numbly.  It was all his fault.  She would kill him, mark her words.  But wait, he was already dead.  ShadowCat had killed him before she herself died.  Nyah could see his body from where she sat.  At least ShadowCat had had the pleasure of destroying him before she died.  Did it really matter though, if in the end, her young life was sacrificed as well?  Why?  Why did it have to be Cat?

            Her mind swam with these questions, and Nyah soon felt overwhelmed by them.  She burst into a new wave of tears and clutched the dead girl to her chest, rocking back and forth slowly.  She didn't know how long she had sat there, crying what seemed like endless amounts of tears as the rain fell on them, as never ending as her grief.

*          *          *

            Six months had passed since the death of ShadowCat.  Nyah, her father, and the rest of the Rogue had returned to Corus with mixed feelings.  They were all solemn for their Princess's sake, but inside they wondered why Nyah mourned so for the girl.  Indeed, she had been silent for nearly the entire ride home, taking comfort only in Eric, her father, and George.  But none of them had known the girl the way Nyah had, and some days the grief was nearly too much for her to bear.

            That particular day in Corus, Nyah had ridden out to the woods along the outskirts of the city.  She felt the need for peace and quiet.  Tying her horse at the edge of the forest, she walked along the small footpath, reflecting on the past six months. So much had happened since she returned home, and soon it was as though she had never left.  With the obvious exception of seeing her father every morning, Nyah realized with a grin.  

            When she had first come home, she was still distraught from ShadowCat's death.  They buried the girl on the cliff where the two had been so long ago, watching the sunset.  She and four others of the Rogue were buried there, those who had died fighting on the ship.  It seemed fitting, because Nyah remembered how reluctant Cat was to leave the cliff when they had been there.  Now she would never have to leave…

            Rikasa and the rest of the crew and soldiers, they had piled up on the ship and burned it to a  pile of smoldering wood on the ocean.  The Chihopan people were ecstatic at their freedom, and had smothered the members of the Rogue in thanks and gifts.  They had heard of the Rebel raids long ago and had hidden their treasures where they would not be found.  Nyah had come home with a quiver of fresh armor piercing arrows and a new strong yew bow.  George had returned with a sack full of gold that was equal to the ransom of Nyah.  The rest of the Rogue received small trinkets, but they were satisfied after they had raided the storeroom of the ship and found exquisite weaponry and enough gold to last them a lifetime.  Nyah took nothing but her sword that was given to her by Mistress Miller back in Salt Harbor.  She didn't want anything more except to get out of the gods forsaken place as soon as possible.

            The first week or so, Nyah was in a state of serious depression.  She just didn't understand why Cat had to go.  The girl had been so young, so full of life.  Nyah was nearly impossible to talk to, only stared blankly at the person till they turned away in stupor.  She wouldn't talk to anyone, not her father, Eric, or George. She just wanted to be left alone.  

            In truth, it was Leon who had brought her out of her despondent state of mind.  He had broken his leg on the ship and was laid up in the common room while it healed.  He had been sitting comfortably on the large plush chair by the fire, his bum leg propped up on a stool and a tankard of ale in his hand.  Nyah was in a chair next to him, staring indifferently into the fire.  

"So," Leon had said, "are you glad to be home?"

Nyah didn't respond.

Sighing, he leaned as far towards her as his leg would allow. "Come on, Nyah.  Talk to me.  What's the matter?"

Nyah took a shaky breath.  "She's dead," she whispered quietly.  "She's dead and it's all my fault."

"No it's not," Leon responded as he sat back and took a swig of his ale.  

Nyah looked at him curiously.  "How is it not?"  she asked.  "I'm the one that was so hell bent on finding my father that I didn't even realize how much danger I was putting her in."

"Do you really think that?"  Leon asked her.  "Do you really think that it's your fault she willingly followed you back to her  past in order to help you find your father?"

Nyah nodded, tears coming to her emerald eyes. 

"Now you listen to me," Leon commanded, turning to face her.  His gray eyes glinted like sharp pieces of steel, and for the first time in a week, Nyah had felt alert.  "Didn't you make a deal?  And didn't the girl set the terms of that deal?"  

Nyah nodded again, wondering what Leon was getting at. 

"She knew what she was getting herself into a long time ago.  And if she had had to die on that ship, then don't you think she died happy, knowing that for once she was fighting for something that was right?"

This revelation had startled Nyah, and since that day at the fire with Leon, she had been a different person.  A happier one.  The two never spoke of their short conversation again, but only Leon knew the true reason why Nyah's disposition had changed so dramatically.  Yes, ShadowCat was dead, and yes, she had gone too soon in Nyah's eyes.  But at the same time, the girl had died for something good and protecting those she loved.  And wasn't that what was most important?

Nyah decided from that day on, that she wouldn't think about how sad she was that Cat had died, but how glad she was that she had had the chance to get to know the little hotheaded girl.  Her own life was too short to be wasted on mourning; instead, she had to celebrate living.  And now, wandering through the woods and looking back, Nyah realized how much she had to live for.  Her newfound father, for example.  There was so much they had to catch up on, nearly thirteen years worth of stories, adventures, and anecdotes.  George, her adoptive older brother, was the same as ever:  cocky, teasing, caring, and just as loving as any member of the Rogue.  _Especially towards Alanna,_ Nyah thought with a sly smile.  Recently, she had noticed the secret female knight-in-training sneaking out to the Dancing Dove a lot more than usual, and it was often hard to find George and the girl afterwards.

_Like I have a right to talk though,_ Nyah thought with a sheepish grin.  She smiled as she looked down at her left hand and watched the small diamond ring sparkle in the sunlight.  Eric had proposed to her about three months ago, and the wedding was planned for May, only two months away.  On her birthday no less, and Nyah couldn't ask for a better gift.  Eric had surprised everyone when he dropped down on one knee in the middle of the common room and asked for Nyah's hand, but Nyah had been secretly hoping he would for a long time now.  Rispah was insistent on helping with all the wedding plans, and together with the Ladies of the Rogue, Nyah's days were now filled with dress fittings and flowers and laughter from the floor to the very rafters of the Dancing Dove. 

ShadowCat was gone, and there was nothing Nyah could do to change that.  But, as the girl had told her, ShadowCat would always live on in Nyah, and that was all she needed.  Life would go on, and Nyah would lead the way, confident in everything she did.  So many new challenges lay before her, but that was what made life fun and interesting.  

There in the forests of Tortall, amid the new spring leaves and delicate buds,  Nyah made herself a promise.  "Good or bad," she said quietly, fingering her gold locket that she had received so long ago, "I'll take what life gives me and make the best of it."

A small breeze blew through, rustling the leaves.  For a moment, Nyah could have sworn she saw ShadowCat standing in the distance.  She was dressed in a white blouse and blue breeches and went unarmed, something Nyah had never seen her do before.  Her black hair was still streaked with blue, and her golden eyes sparked, giving off their own light.  She smiled at Nyah and waved, and from somewhere in the depths of the woods Nyah swore she heard a soft voice whisper:  _"I'll always be in ya heart."_

"Yeah," Nyah whispered, smiling as the figure vanished from her sight.  "Always."

***THE END***__

_A.N.:  Wow, my last chapter for this story.  It's hard to believe I started this thing over a year ago!  Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it; I know I had so much fun writing it.  Please tell me what you think of the overall story.  Do you think I'm a better writer than when I started this story?  How about Girl of the Rogue?  Hehe, do you even remember that one?  That was a LONG time ago!  _

_            Anyway, I want to say thank you to the readers who have been there since I began writing Tamora Pierce fanfiction:  Lady Knight of Kennan, Rya, Cytosine, Lillith Nightdemon, Elevenesse, and __Midnight__ Angel. You guys and your reviews have been what made me want to keep writing, and I hope you liked it at least a little but!  ; )_

_You all rock though, and thank you to all my readers for every review and suggestion you ever made. Oh yeah, and for putting up with my absurdly long waits between updates!  I know you hate me for that, and I know I have used every excuse in the book to get around it, but you stuck by me and that was the important thing.   Well, I guess for the last time on this story…_

_              —Rogue ; )_


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